The Fruit of the Pandora Box
by LadyJirachi
Summary: Loneliness was no stranger to Mogami Kyoko. And then one day, she met Tsuruga Ren, and realized he could father the baby she had always wanted. And perhaps more... AU. Dark Romance.
1. Chapter 1

_:Chapter 1:_

Mogami Kyoko stared at the bottle of pills in her hand. She hadn't taken any today, and her lips were tightly scrunched together as she contemplated what to do. Furtively, she gave a cursory glance around her deserted study room, despite knowing the whole house was empty. He had left early in the morning to attend to his busy duties as one of the most famous and well-known actors in the world, and due to his intensely packed schedule, probably wouldn't be back until the end of the day. It was a miracle, indeed, how the famous star constantly made time for her. It touched her heart.

Kyoko had begged him to keep their relationship secret. The last thing she needed was publicity. Many would think, perhaps, that she was dating Tsuruga Ren for just that, publicity. For his wealth. For his fame. She wasn't part of the showbiz world, after all. She had little to no money for herself; her earnings as a social worker were meager. And above all, people—if they caught wind of her relationship with him—would also be certain of one thing: that she most definitely wasn't being with him because she genuinely loved him.

Well, they were right regarding that last aspect.

It had started out that way, anyway. When Mogami Kyoko had first met Tsuruga Ren by chance, she had been awestruck. Having an ex-boyfriend who was a singer pop-star helped, for one, and she'd furiously yet in the end forcefully complied, after Fuwa Sho had effortlessly manipulated her into serving as a waitress (of sorts) at his little party held in his luxurious home. Several other celebrities had been invited, including Sho's rival and Japan's number one actor (his manager had insisted that it would be poor for Sho's public image if he didn't at least extend an invitation to the man, who had shockingly accepted), and Kyoko had embarrassed herself that night when she had spilled the glass of wine she was serving all over his suit.

He hadn't been angry, which was shocking. If it was Sho he would probably have murdered her, or something. Spewing mad apologies profusely, Kyoko had been abashed when the actor had smiled gently at her instead, and asked if _she _was alright. Things hadn't exactly gone better when she had impulsively grabbed her handkerchief from her pocket and attempted to clean the front of his expensive suit, only to realize with horror that she was using a hankie that she had used to clear up some butter from the kitchen counter earlier. For that terrible moment, she had simply stood there frozen and stared at him, her mouth wide open with the hankie hanging limply off her stiff hand. She didn't know what to do. It wasn't as if she could afford to pay him for ruining his Armani suit.

_She didn't know what to do._

And then he had started laughing.

It wasn't a derisive laugh, not like Sho. It was simply laughter—he was amused, he clearly found her a source of humor for reasons she didn't fathom, and so he was laughing. She stared at him harder, wondering if he had gone mad. After a while, Tsuruga Ren had told her amidst chuckles, very kindly, that it was alright, and that she didn't need to worry herself about it.

He was so very kind.

Kyoko had watched him closely, then. He was no doubt an extremely attractive man, with his towering, dignified stature, his silky dark hair and mesmerizing, enigmatic dark eyes, and she didn't need to look past his ruined attire to know that he was very well-built and strong. He was toned and powerful (she'd heard he was gifted in every form of martial arts, even), and very, very intelligent. Too intelligent, sometimes. His prowess and skill as the best actor in the whole of Japan was known to all. He was truly a fine masculine specimen.

He would make the perfect sperm donor.

That was something Mogami Kyoko had been looking for, at least for a while now.

It had started a couple months back, when her best friend, Kanae, had had her first baby in the hospital. He was the most beautiful little thing Kyoko had ever seen, with his tiny button nose, round apple cheeks, and large trusting eyes. She had seen the way the newborn baby gazed at Kanae from where he lay as a clothed bundle in her arms—as if his mother was his only world. And the normally stoic Kanae… she had looked _happy_.

It was a miracle, indeed. But then babies were all miracles.

Kyoko had been envious. For someone who had been alone a great deal of her life, seeing that little scene before her in the hospital ward had been heart-stirring. She wanted to have a baby of her own to love and to protect and to cherish, to have such a child so precious to her that she could spend her life with. She wanted to wake up to sound of its cries for _her_, and to go to sleep at night after singing it to sleep. She didn't want to wake up alone, like she did every day. A baby was what she wanted more than anything else right now.

"You need a man before that can happen, you know," Kanae said flatly, before cooing to her baby, after Kyoko had told her.

The baby giggled.

Kyoko looked stonily at her friend, her usually cheerful demeanor disappearing. "Please, no."

Her brief romance with her childhood friend Sho had hardened her—he had used her feelings for him so that she would willingly serve him and his daily needs then as if she was no more than his own personal servant (or a slave, technically, since it wasn't as if she had been paid), before promptly dumping her one day for a beautiful model he had met.

Men weren't to be trusted. Besides, Kyoko had been raised throughout her childhood by a single mother, and she had done pretty well for herself, hadn't she, without a father?

Who ever said that a father was necessary for bringing up a child?

But a father was necessary for creating one.

Tsuruga Ren was perfect. If any man should father her child, she wanted it to be him. He had the best genes a child could ever want from a father.

And yet she was beginning, over the past month of their relationship, to feel guilty, and to feel other emotions she couldn't understand.

He was incredibly good to her. He was gentle, and yet at the same time, there was a sort of dangerous steel in him. It thrilled her more than she would admit. Lovemaking with him was, suffice to say, different. She wasn't sexually experienced—the furthest she'd ever gotten in that aspect was with Sho, who, admittedly, wasn't bad at all in bed. But all the same Tsuruga Ren was unique; he was careful with her at the same time and yet also very strongly dominant. He left no corner of her body unexplored. He made her breathless. He made her heady. He made her drunk. He made her feel loved.

He made her scared.

Things were going too well. And when things went too well, most of the time they weren't going to last long. Kyoko knew that she was growing steadily attached to him more than she ever planned to in the first place. What did he really see in her? She didn't dare to take in that soft look in his dark eyes when he gazed at her sometimes. Was it affection, like it seemed to be? It was true that she had never had a more doting boyfriend in her life. He was a star, and yet he was dating a woman who was not even in the showbiz world, which was rare of him. She'd known from past articles and news that he had been together with actresses and models before, though their relationships never lasted very long.

Playboy.

The word was bitter in her lips. Was she a new taste for him, him being with a woman who was not part of the acting industry? If his previous relationships had been fleeting, then why would theirs be any different?

Which was a good thing, Kyoko told herself. That was the plan. Tsuruga had told her that he would be heading to Guam soon to shoot a criminal drama, and his stay there might extend up to two months. He had asked her to go with him, but she had refused, saying that her doing so might expose the nature and secrecy of their relationship. He hadn't responded after she had said that, but had simply looked thoughtful, and she had wondered what was going through that enigmatic head of his—he was so mysterious, sometimes. The truth was Kyoko didn't really grasp what Ren actually thought about her persistence in keeping their romance a secret; she had requested it, and he had simply not denied her. That was all she knew from his input in the matter.

No matter. When he headed to Guam—which was in a month's time—she would be ready. That was the time to strike. She would leave him then, and disappear from his life. When he returned he would find her gone. Kyoko's main goal now was to conceive within the remaining time she had left with Ren, and once he was gone for Guam, she would go on her own, with a piece of him embedded in her. He would never know of her pregnancy.

Kyoko inhaled sharply, and placed the bottle of contraception pills firmly back onto the shelf. From today onwards, she was going to stop taking it. She had a month to go, thought she was certain, judging by their active sexual life, that she would conceive very, very easily and swiftly. They were both healthy, and he was absolutely virile.

She moved down the mahogany stairs. It was a large, lavish terrace house she was currently staying in; she had moved to his home since they had started dating. She highly doubted, anyway, that he would want to stay in her tiny apartment, though he had visited her there several times before at the start of their relationship.

Kyoko cracked her knuckles, and rolled her disheveled sleeves up. She was determined to make a proper dinner for Ren today, and with that thought in mind, she grabbed her jacket from the coat hanger by the door and put it on.

Kyoko had never really been an expert when it came to fashion. Much as she loved dressing up, she simply didn't know what to wear, and at the moment she was wearing a long-sleeved sweater (the weather was getting very cold) and knee-high jeans. A diamond necklace, a gift from Ren, lay around her neck.

The Queen Rosa.

She smiled to herself, fingers reaching to tenderly touch the tiny object lying on her collarbone.

It seemed there were other pieces of Ren that she could also take away with her, after all. Her gaze sobered as a saddening realization abruptly came to her.

No. She couldn't take this with her, and she knew it.

* * *

"I'm telling you, I got this figured out," Kyoko insisted as she vigorously cut the vegetables on the chopping board, the knife pressing now and then into the hard plastic. Her cell phone was currently trapped between her shoulder and her ear as she cut away. "I had this planned from the start—"

"Please, you had nothing planned," Kanae snorted from the other line, ignoring Kyoko's indignant splutters. "All you had in that mind of yours was a baby, and then you went right ahead and tried to seduce him—"

"I did not try to seduce him!" Kyoko shouted defensively. She pouted her lip, sniffing theatrically. Her hands clamped over the cut pieces of vegetable before scooping them up and tossing them carefully into a bowl. "Really, Moko-chan, you know nothing about me at all—"

"I know too much about you, that's the problem," Kanae retorted. "This isn't the way, Kyoko, though I supposed I've told you that a million times before. You—" She paused, and Kyoko could hear the baby—Coco-chan—whining in the background. A few seconds passed as Kanae cooed something to him, and then she spoke to Kyoko again. "Honestly. Are you sure you're prepared for motherhood? It's very tiring, you know."

"I'm always prepared!" Kyoko said enthusiastically. "I'm going to buy the baby clothes as soon as I can, and you know I recently saw these fairy PJs on sale, and it's the most adorable thing, I tell you, they even come with rubber wands, Moko-chan_, rubber wands_—"

"Yeah, yeah, don't drag your fairy fetishes into this, please," Kanae grumbled.

Kyoko's mouth dropped. "Moko-chan, Coco-chan is right there with you! Don't say such inappropriate language!"

"Well, in any case," Kanae said unconcernedly. "What's your plan now? You're still on birth control, right?"

"Well, I'm not anymore starting from today," Kyoko said, more soberly this time. She glanced at the clock. It was nearly nine. He was going to come home soon, and she bet that he hadn't eaten dinner—as always. "He's heading for Guam in a month's time."

"And?" Kanae said quietly.

"That's it." Kyoko told herself that it was the sting of the onions she was now chopping that was causing her eyes to tear up. She coughed. "I'll have to go, then."

"You sound sad," Kanae said skeptically. "Your great plan isn't all that great, is it? You don't even want to leave him."

"There's no point in staying on anymore by then," Kyoko said simply. "I told you, you don't need a father to raise a child. What's wrong with a single mother?"

"Nothing," Kanae said. "But you're cruel, you know."

"C-cruel?" Kyoko stammered, nearly dropping the chopper.

"Using him as your personal baby-maker, that's what," Kanae said bluntly. "I know you have little to no faith in men, but Tsuruga-san is different. He truly loves you."

"I need to go," Kyoko said quickly.

"What? Wait! Is it because of what I said? _Love? _Kyoko, don't be foolish, for heaven's sake—"

"Seeya," she chirped, and hung up the phone with her food-stained bare hands. She sighed, wiping her dirtied phone with a towel.

Alright. It was time to finish up making the rest of his dinner.

It was half an hour later when she finally took out the metal tray of steaming turkey from the oven. She inhaled deeply, and smiled at the delicious aroma wafting to her nose. Her stomach grumbled audibly, and her face flushed, smile faltering. She was hungrier than she'd anticipated. Still, she refused to eat until Tsuruga-san was home, and with that in mind, she gingerly lowered the tray onto the table with oven mitten-clad hands.

Kyoko checked the rice cooker. The small light on its white surface was flickering green, a sign that it was done. Once she finished checking, she heaped the cooked vegetables from the saucepan onto a plate.

She was just about finished when she heard it; the sounds of the sleek car's engine rumbling in the driveway. Excited, she removed her mitts and rested them on the side of the counter.

She opened the kitchen door, and skipped to the head of the staircase, before peering enthusiastically at the main entrance, and watched on as the large oak door of the house slowly opened.

A tall, dark-haired man came into view, his footfalls graceful and sure-footed. His silky raven hair, despite him having been out and active the whole day, framed the sides of his angular, elegant face smoothly. He was wearing a long trench coat, along with full-length leather-tight trousers that clung to his long sinuous legs. A satchel hung off his shoulder.

He looked up, and smiled the tender smile that caused thousands of his female fans to swoon every single time they saw it.

"I'm home, Mogami-san."

* * *

It was strange, she knew. Despite having dated for quite a while, the pair remained on a last-name basis. Kyoko hadn't dared to call him by his first name—she had no idea what his reaction would be, and it felt so strangely informal to acknowledge him as such. Calling him by his first name left her with a pang of startling intimacy that she wasn't prepared for, that she wasn't sure she would ever be prepared for. He never pushed her in this aspect, and had always politely regarded her with the similar formality that she addressed him with. She wondered if he was just as guarded as she was, or if he was simply reciprocating her refusal to breach the invisible boundaries between them.

The only times she had accidentally called him _Ren _were in the midst of the heat of their lovemaking sessions, when the name had fallen uncontrollably—intimately—from her lips. He seemed to have liked it, she realized, for his ministrations on her body always sped up whenever she called him that.

But all the same, it was rare for any of them to address each other by their first name in the day.

"You look really tired, Tsuruga-san," Kyoko said in concern as she lowered the plate of cooked vegetables onto the dining table. "Was work tough for you today?"

Ren smiled at her. He took off his trench coat, revealing the long black loose turtleneck sweater he wore underneath.

"A little, I suppose," he conceded. "But there's nothing surprising about that." He cast his warm dark gaze on the dishes on the marble table. "And I see that you've done an outstanding job once again. You shouldn't have."

"Of course I should!" Kyoko insisted. "You didn't eat dinner again, did you? You must be starving!"

She had barely finished speaking when a drawn-out growl suddenly echoed in the initially quiet air. The unexpected sound was loud—loud enough that she froze in her tracks. Both of them stilled, and they stared at each other for a shocked moment. Still standing by the edge of the table, she could feel her face reddening as she met amused obsidian eyes.

_Why did her stomach have to ruin things at a time like this?_

He smiled teasingly at her. "Well, now that you mentioned it, I _am _starving. Shall we eat?"

"Stop laughing at me!" Kyoko cried theatrically, regaining her ability to speak once more. She ripped her already loosened apron off from around her waist and pressed the fabric to her heated face, making sure that all her features were covered. "This isn't funny! You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

"Mogami-san—"

"Yes, you are! I can hear it in your voice! Stop it! It's not funny!"

A large adroit hand gently descended onto her small one, and she stiffened as he softly tugged her fingers away, peeling the apron from her crimson face. She probably looked like a tomato right then, with her red cheeks and disheveled copper hair sticking out.

Damned his face! His mesmerizing dark eyes were glimmering imploringly at her, his raven head tilted slightly to one side. She recognized that look; she'd seen him use that alluring expression many times before.

"Let's eat together, Mogami-san."

She flushed.

A few minutes later they were both seated by the table, tucking into their dinner. A companionable silence had stretched on between the couple, save for the sounds of cutlery clinking lightly against their plates. Most of her embarrassment had finally faded away throughout the meal, and she munched on happily at last, beaming at him.

"Mogami-san," he said quietly.

Kyoko brightened. "Yes?"

"I believe you know of the upcoming awards event," he responded. "I spoke to you about it, yes?"

"Oh!" Kyoko nodded. "Yes, you said there's going to be a huge awards event held next week, and that you were nominated. It's a sort of film award show, isn't it? Lots of other famous actors will be there too."

"That's correct," he said gently.

"What about it?" Kyoko said, chewing away on her rice. "Don't worry, Tsuruga-san, knowing that it's you, you definitely already won the award! Next week is going to be a great week for you!"

It was simply, she thought, ridiculous to even think that Tsuruga Ren hadn't won. Even from where they sat in his home she could see the accolades and awards he had achieved over the years throughout his acting career situated on the tall shelves around them. The upcoming award show was simply another achievement that he would be adding to his shelves in no time next week.

And that amount would only keep growing, she knew. It seemed his success as Japan's top actor was only becoming more and more immense as time passed. After all, everyone—_everyone_—knew that as long as his name was etched in the credits of a drama series or a movie (or any film production, really), the result would be certain: the ratings for the film were going to be sky high.

"I'm flattered that you think so," Ren said, smiling. "But no, that's not why I'm mentioning this to you."

She widened her eyes. "Then… why?"

He lowered his cutlery gracefully on his plate, and then gazed at her. Something about the intensity of his stare made her suddenly uneasy.

"Y—yes?" she asked timidly, swallowing.

"I will be expected to turn up with a date," he said, with deceptive mildness.

She flushed. "I-I… Well, if Tsuruga-san really has to, it's alright! You can go with anyone you like! I really don't mind! It's all for work, isn't it?"

"Really?" he prompted gently. "I can go with anyone I like?"

She forced a smile. "I mean—well, yes. Don't worry about me, Tsuruga-san. I'll be fine. I-I won't be jealous, or anything—"

"I see." His large hand unexpectedly landed on hers, where she had been resting her hand beside her plate. His appendage was so big that he enveloped her tiny hand completely. She squeaked, and jumped in her seat, nearly whipping herself away from the sudden contact. "Then may I please have the honors of having you go with me, Mogami-san?"

Her mouth was wide agape, probably showing him an eyeful of the half-chewed up rice inside, but she was too shocked to care. "_Me?_"

"Of course." His baritone was quietly casual, but there was a blunt quality to it that stunned her. "To be honest, I've been considering it for a while now. I believe it's time."

"T-time?"

"To make our relationship public," he said gently. "What do you think, Mogami-san?"

Her face had gone red again, and she was stammering and spluttering incoherently under her breath, nearly choking on her rice. He waited patiently for her to regain her composure, his hand still resting wordlessly over hers.

She wasn't ready for this. It wasn't supposed to be part of her plan, after all. If their being together was made public, what was going to happen to her after she broke up with Tsuruga-san?

What she needed was for things between them to be discreet and covert. Revealing the truth about their relationship to the public wasn't going to help at all, especially once it reached the point of time where she intended to end things with him. She wanted to make a clean, quiet cut. A little slip and she would be out of his life forever. What if the media recognized her later on?

She wondered why she was suddenly feeling a clench of pain in her chest.

A sudden sound rung through the air, shrill against the initial silence. It stretched on, persistent and incessant. Kyoko jumped in her chair, and Ren, who was startled as well, loosened his hand above hers. Thankful for the distraction, Kyoko blurted out hastily, "Excuse me," before fleeing and making a mad rush for her cell phone, which she had left in the kitchen.

She didn't dare to look at his face.

Once Kyoko had gotten her hands quickly on her cell phone (which was resting on the kitchen counter), she impulsively answered the call without even so much a glance at her caller ID. Her embarrassment and discomfort was still gnawing away at her, and she was desperate to drag things out for as long as she could here in the kitchen without having to return to Ren, and above all, answer his request.

"Hello?" she said, half-expecting to hear Kanae's cool, irritated voice.

"Kyoko." A very familiar masculine voice drawled in her ear.

Her eyes widened as she inhaled sharply. She could already feel her heart plummeting to the bottom of her chest at the caller's voice. Oh no. Almost immediately she regretted picking up the call.

"So I finally managed to contact you, huh," Fuwa Sho said. "You've been completely MIA recently, at least for the past month. You never pick up calls, you never answer texts, and when I go over to your flat, you're never at home. Not even in the middle of the night. Where are you now?"

"Y-you stalker!" Kyoko spat, her fingers clenching over the hard granite of the kitchen counter. A part of her was very tempted to just hang up on him right then, but she had a feeling he was going to call back the moment she did that. "It's none of your business where I am!"

This was not good. She did not want to talk on the phone with Sho when Tsuruga-san was in the house. It was known to her that the two felt a mutual disdain towards the other. Sho had once openly and publicly challenged Tsuruga-san a long time ago, declaring that he was going to surpass the actor in both popularity and status one day. The actor had not even acknowledged his challenge, which had only fueled the singer's loathing towards him. Ren's personal contempt towards the singer had also worsened over time as well once Kyoko had begun dating Ren; after all, the actor knew that she was Sho's ex. On the other hand, Kyoko was also not too keen to let Sho know that she was now romantically involved with Ren.

This was a very, very bad situation indeed.

"Who are you calling a stalker?" Sho snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. Now where the hell are you? You're not at home. I checked. Where the fuck have you been for the past month, Kyoko?"

"And how is this any of your business?" Kyoko shot back. "I'm busy now. I'm—"

"Not so fast," Sho drawled. "If you ignore me, I can make you very, very sorry."

"Oh, is this the part where I'm supposed to be intimidated?" Kyoko mocked. "Sorry, I'm not scared of you."

"If you're not scared of me, then why don't you tell me where you are?" Sho taunted. "Oh, I know why. Someone's terrified that I might find her. Terrified of _me_, to be exact."

Kyoko's jaw dropped indignantly. "Who's terrified of you?"

"Hmmm, let me guess—oh, I know, how about the person who's been hiding from me for the past month?"

"I haven't been hiding from you!" Kyoko barked. It was infuriating, how he could so effortlessly get under her skin, like she was some sort of puppet whose strings were always readily available for him to play with. He was always manipulating her. "I've been—been busy is all!"

"Busy?" Sho asked. "Busy with what?"

"Once again, it's none of your business!" Kyoko retorted.

Of course she hadn't been at home for the past month. She had moved in with Tsuruga-san, which was why Sho hadn't been able to get hold of her. He had no idea that she was staying with Ren, after all. She had a very good feeling, though, that if he found out he was going to go nuts with fury.

"Look," Sho said, his tone grudging. "Let's just say that wherever you are, it's not a good idea for a girl to be wandering around outside alone. Where have you been if you're not at home? Do you have any idea how dangerous your current situation can be?"

Kyoko blinked. Was the singer actually—?

No. He couldn't be. It was just her imagination. There was no way Sho could ever be concerned about her.

"I'm not alone, okay?" she snapped. "Besides, I'm perfectly fine on my own anyway. What do you take me for? Some defenseless sort of girl?"

"Yes," Sho said bluntly. "And what do you mean, you're not alone?"

She straightened, feeling too angry to realize her accidental slip. "I'm sorry? And just how in any way do I come off as defenseless to you?"

"In every way," he said matter-of-factly. "And answer me already—"

"Baka Sho!" she yelled into her phone. "You're an idiot! Idiot_! Idiot!"_

And with that, Kyoko hung up furiously, and slammed her cell phone onto the hard granite of the counter, glowering at the innocent device. It was just like Sho to annoy her like this—every single time he called her he always made her angrier and angrier with his constant quips and taunts. She hated how he always got the better of her in every one of their arguments, no matter how much she tried to keep her cool around him.

Damn him!

Still muttering curses under her breath, she spun around, arms folded grumpily—and froze.

Ren was leaning languidly against the doorway of the kitchen, watching her like a lazy yet powerful feline. He looked utterly expressionless; she couldn't read a single thing from the impassive angular features of his face. And as she stared back in horror at him, all she could think of was—

_How long had he been standing there?_

"Tsuruga-san," she squeaked. "H-have you finished dinner?"

He looked back at her, and immediately she quaked at the coolness in his liquid dark eyes.

"Who was that on the phone?" Ren inquired, with deliberate slowness. She didn't miss how his velvety baritone had become distinctively cold.

"It was, um—"

What was the point, really, in trying to hide it from him? She'd yelled out Sho's name less than a minute ago during their argument on a heated whim (even if Ren hadn't been eavesdropping by the doorway he'd definitely have heard it from the dinner table thanks to the volume of her voice), and now she was beginning to regret her impulsiveness more than ever.

Why couldn't she ever think before she acted?

"It—it was Shotaro," Kyoko finally admitted, feeling as if she was about to choke on the name. "But it was really nothing—"

"I thought things between the two of you were over?" Ren's voice was flat.

"They are!" Kyoko cried out desperately. "They couldn't be more over, really! He and I, we have nothing to do with each other anymore—"

"Then why is he still contacting you?" Ren said, still in the same flat tone of voice. She could practically feel her skin prickling uneasily as his smothering onyx eyes raked her face intently. "Unless the both of you are now, perhaps, friends?"

Kyoko's head jerked. "No, we're not!" she said at once. "I'd never consider that _thing _my friend, especially after how he treated me! We really have nothing to do with each other anymore, Tsuruga-san, it's just—" She fumbled blindly for the words she needed to express. "Sometimes he harasses me, because he likes making me angry! He's a—a complete _jerk_!"

"When I first spoke to you that day long ago, shortly before we went out," Ren said coolly, "You were his waitress, weren't you?"

"I didn't volunteer for that!" Kyoko said, her hands waving wildly in an effort to convince him. "I thought I told you before, Tsuruga-san! He completely manipulated me into it! He challenged me, because at that time he accused me of being frightened of him, and I wasn't, and I got really mad, and next thing I knew I was helping him out as his waitress to prove myself—"

She swallowed, suddenly too fearful to continue. Ren's toned arms were crossed, and the look on his face was frightening—quite a contrast to his usually gentle exterior. He positively towered over her, she suddenly realized, feeling intimidated.

"You're far too naïve," he said, taking a step towards her. She cowered at his reprimand. "If you continue like this, you're always going to be manipulated by him."

"I know, I know!" Kyoko wailed remorsefully. "I'm trying to change, I really am!"

He moved nearer to her, and she backed away instinctively. And yet he continued approaching her, and she flinched, still moving away step by step while he came nearer and nearer. Squeaking, her back hit the counter, and she froze.

And then she felt his masculine warmth brush past her as he reached over gracefully and took her phone from the counter behind her.

"Tsuruga-san!"

He ignored her, pressed onto the button and browsed through her phone. She wrestled the urge to wrench it from his grasp, but that, she knew, would only seal her guilt further.

"Hmm," Ren commented at last, after a few tense seconds of silence, lowering the phone. "Looks like I'll have to get you a new phone. And a change of number." He glanced at her, eyes impenetrable.

"But, Tsuruga-san—" she spluttered.

"You said you were trying to change."

"I am!"

"Well, this is the first step, is it not? I believe you said yourself that you don't wish to be manipulated by him anymore. Well, not letting him contact you anymore would be the first step."

Kyoko bit her lips. "Well, yes—"

"Then what seems to be the problem?" He eyed her calmly, still holding up her phone with a single large hand.

"Nothing, it's just…" She couldn't find the words.

To be honest she wasn't even sure why she was objecting his request (or if what he stated could even be called a request, judging by the steel in his demeanor). Perhaps it was because she didn't want to be in his debt any more than she already was. She knew that there was no way she could afford a new cell phone, or to buy a new phone plan along with a new number. She simply didn't have the finances for it, and she couldn't let Tsuruga-san pay the money like this. Sho was her problem. She wasn't going to drag Tsuruga-san into this.

Not when she was going to leave him soon in a month's time.

There was a pause, and then Tsuruga spoke again.

"I see." He laid the phone softly back onto the counter. "So that's how it is."

And then he was sweeping away from her, towards the exit of the kitchen.

Her paralyzed senses seemed to spring to life again when she realized what was happening.

"Wait!" Kyoko dashed after him, her bare feet smacking against the polished timber floor. He paused in his tracks, not looking back, and she panted slightly as she came to a stop, before reaching up and grabbing hold of his broad hard shoulder. In contrast, the soft cashmere of his loose turtleneck rustled beneath her touch. "Please don't misunderstand! I do want to change! I _will_ change!"

He turned slightly to gaze at her.

"I won't let myself be done in by Sho anymore!" Kyoko insisted, making sure she met his dark piercing gaze head on. "I swear!"

He remained silent.

"I won't answer his calls anymore," Kyoko ranted determinedly. "I promise. He's such an asshole anyway, why would I want to talk to him? I'd be happy if he rots somewhere! That's right! I wouldn't care less about what he wants to do with his stupid life! Right now, all I just want is…" She faltered slightly as she continued looking at Ren. "Please don't be angry with me anymore, Tsuruga-san."

A flicker of a heartbeat passed.

Before Kyoko could so much as take in his reaction, she found herself letting out a shocked squeal when strong arms abruptly reached out and scooped her small body up. Her squeals rose slightly in volume as her head ended up pressed against the hard planes of his chest, and she could feel her face reddening like a chili pepper at the unexpected contact, and at the sensuous warmth enveloping her body like a wondrous coat.

"Tsuruga-san?" Kyoko whispered, turning her head slightly against his chest.

He didn't reply, and he didn't have to, for the next thing she knew they were moving—moving to the vinyl couch just across the dining table. He glided swiftly, still carrying her bridal-style, and she remained stiff and unmoving in his embrace, too embarrassed to move.

He lowered her gently onto the surface of the sofa, long masculine fingers briefly skimming through her copper hair, and for a moment she thought that he was back to his usual self—the kind, soft and warm Ren. But then his heated lips landed on hers roughly, and she let out a small moan as he moved against her mouth fiercely, unapologetically.

He was crouched above her, though she noticed through a rapidly growing haze that he was making sure not to crush any of his muscled weight on her. She tugged at him closer, her hands going around the dignified column of his neck, and kissed him harder. Feeling his powerful physique pressed against her body was making her feel steadily more and more delirious, and she emitted another breathless moan as he suddenly moved away from her mouth before raining shattering kisses down the creamy path of her own exposed neck. The places along her skin where his smothering mouth had ravaged felt raw and throbbing.

Kyoko whimpered, tensing as she felt his sharp teeth sink into the milky flesh below her collarbone, near where the curve of her breasts lay. Her hands tightened helplessly over the silkiness of his raven hair at the resulting assault of sensations smothering through her veins. And then Ren's long talented fingers were probing the neckline of her shirt, and she nearly choked on her breath as he swiftly popped the buttons below in fluid, unhesitating succession, parting the cloth. His large hand swept across the cotton-clad mounds of her breasts, brushing across her bra.

She felt exposed, and she turned her head against the vinyl of her sofa, her face red. "Don't look, Tsuruga-san…"

She could feel the vibration of his low, husky chuckle run up her chest. "Even after countless times… you never change."

She would have felt more miffed at the idea that he was laughing at her if not for the fact that his adroit fingers had abruptly shifted to the bra strap by her side. His other arm moved around to her thin back, and she squeaked when he lifted her slightly. Instinctively she clung tighter around his strong shoulders, her face flushed a deeper shade of red as Ren deftly undid the bra clasp behind her.

His dark head bent as her bra fell away, and he kissed the slight pink indents the firm straps of her bra had left on her otherwise smooth alabaster skin. His hot lips against the raw skin made her cry out, and she buried her face against his hard shoulder, inhaling his masculine scent deeply.

She loved being held by him. She loved the way he made her feel loved. Until now Kyoko wasn't sure if the latter was simply an illusion for her, but the fact remained that being with Tsuruga-san had engendered the warmest sense of security and happiness she'd ever gotten from a male figure in her life. He made her feel safe. He made her feel cherished. He made her feel so very alive.

But then again, he was an actor, after all. This was what he did best in, perhaps—stirring illusions in his audience's hearts… He was truly incredible, for even she, who had long lost faith in men, had fallen for his show. She didn't even know what to believe anymore.

Only it didn't matter. Whether he truly loved her or not was one thing, but it was definitely true that he was so very good to her. He dedicated much of his life to her, and she couldn't deny that even if he was acting, it was an act that was kind and tender. She owed him too much.

"Tsuruga-san," she whispered, her hands clutching his muscled shoulder tighter. He paused, stilling, and she forced herself to continue.

"I'll go with you to the awards show."

* * *

_:tbc:_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you to all who reviewed! I can't even begin to say how grateful I am to all of you for giving this story a little chance! I know this plot is really quite distinctive from the original plot of Skip Beat!, but I wanted to give my own little twist to it in this AU. I will try my best to keep everyone in character, but then again, their personalities are also not completely the same as the canon version.

Lots of things are not really the same, actually. You'll see! Thanks for joining the ride, and I hope you stick around! I have a lot of things planned, and this is only the beginning.

* * *

_:Chapter 2:_

**One Week Later**

"_What?_ You're going to the awards show _tomorrow_?"

Kyoko winced as she moved her cell phone slightly away from her ear. "Yes, Moko-san."

"You do know the implications of that, don't you?" Kanae said disbelievingly. "Are you sure you're ready to go through with this? The moment you step out together with him in public, and during such a highly publicized event at that, it's sealed. You can't undo it."

"Well," Kyoko said weakly. "We _are_ in public right now."

And it was true. Ren had chosen to bring her out for lunch, where she currently sat by an expensive seaside restaurant, waiting for him to return to her side. The Fullor Hotel, which was located directly right beside the restaurant in all its splendor, was truly a lavish place indeed. Ren had gone over to said grand hotel to speak to his manager, no doubt to discuss whatever plans or issues he had regarding the awards event being held the very next day, and had promised her that he would return to the restaurant within half an hour.

"Yes, but there're no cameras flashing all around you right now, are there?" Kanae retorted from the other end. "On the other hand, the Star Awards is an annual event where all celebrities in the filming industry gather together around the globe to celebrate. This is huge, Kyoko. Of all places you could go with him, you have to go there."

Kyoko swallowed, feeling her face whiten despite the soothing breeze across her skin. Patrons around her were basking in the cheerful sun from where they sat underneath the large umbrellas by their tables, and she wished she could do the same despite the mass of conflicts prominently present in her heart. She pressed a hand to her chiffon summer dress, her sandaled feet moving slightly across the cement ground.

"He says he… intends to make our relationship public," she finally admitted, after a long pause.

Another pause ensued.

And then Kanae spoke.

"_Are you kidding?"_ she demanded. "What happened to seducing Tsuruga Ren and having his baby and then sneaking off away from his life? And you're _publicizing _your relationship? As if things aren't hard enough as they are!"

"Moko-san, please don't say it like that," Kyoko whispered, wincing against her cell phone again. "I know what I'm getting into, please don't worry—"

"And how do you intend to make a getaway from him should you ever get pregnant, when the whole of the media knows who you are?" Kanae snorted. "This is futile."

"Well," Kyoko said softly. "At least I got the main part of my mission completed."

There was another long drawn-out pause.

"What?" Kanae finally exhaled out sharply in response. Her voice seemed to crack slightly from the other line. "Main part?" Koyko could hear her sucking in her breath again. "Right… I remember you told me a week ago that you were quitting birth control. But it's only been a week, you can't possibly already…"

"Yeah, I did," Kyoko said, just as softly as before. "Yesterday night I did a few tests which I'd bought from the drugstore. All three of them came up positive."

"_Tests_? You mean… _pregnancy_ tests?"

"Um," Kyoko said, wincing, "Yes."

There was a long silence on the phone, and for a while, no one said anything. Kyoko wondered if her best friend was even more shocked than she was.

And she herself had been extremely shocked when she found out yesterday evening, in that exact moment, staring at the little pink lines under the amber lights of the bathroom ceiling. This was one hell of an understatement. Even now, she still seemed to be in a sort of a daze throughout the phone call, unsure of what to make of her secret discovery. It felt so surreal somehow; after all, she had dreamed of this moment since that day in the quiet, private ward where she had visited Kanae with her newborn baby, and now here she was, sitting in a luxurious, expensive restaurant she had never envisioned that she could afford to dine at, a few months—nine, actually—away from living the exact same moment as Kanae had back in the hospital.

She couldn't wait.

But first she waited for her best friend's reaction. It was rare for Kanae to ever to be at a loss of words. Very rare, indeed.

"You—you took three tests?"

"Yes," Kyoko answered, as numbly as Kanae had spoken.

"And all three were positive?"

"Y—yeah."

"Does… he know?"

"No," Kyoko said faintly. "I threw them out before he came home last night."

"Oh my goodness, Kyoko," Kanae said, stunned. "You did it, huh? You really did it. You got what you wanted."

"Yeah," Kyoko whispered, and she wondered why the joy that bubbled in her chest was bittersweet.

"The three tests could all be a fluke," Kanae said, almost to herself, like she was hoping it was. Kyoko didn't know whether to be offended or not.

"It's not just the tests, Moko-san," Kyoko forced out, in the same whisper. "It was about a day ago when it started. My, um, you know, have been getting really sore lately. They're hurting, even now. Did that happen with you as well during your pregnancy?"

"Your what?" Kanae said sharply. "Are you talking about your breasts, Kyoko? Mou, you talk like a ridiculous virgin, which is flat-out ironic, since you are most certainly not."

Her face turned a fiery red. "Y—yes."

"So what now?" Kanae demanded. She seemed to be recovering from her shock at last, and her voice from the phone was crisp, business-like and brisk once more. "Are you very, very sure you're going to just leave him? This is a baby, you know. Your flesh and blood. _His _flesh and blood. It's not too late to tell him the truth."

"I'm not going to," Kyoko replied quietly, holding up her glass of water and bringing it to her lips. The chilly water was refreshing, and she lowered her eyelids, savoring the whisper of a breeze across her heated cheeks. Her bronze locks lifted lightly. "I thought I told you, Moko-san. I'm not dragging him into this. I wanted this child from the start, and I'll take responsibility for it on my own. My mother was a single mother, and who knew responsibility better than her?"

"I seriously need to talk to you privately, and face-to-face," Kanae said tersely. "This is crazy."

"You knew my plan from the very beginning, Moko-san," Kyoko reminded her, albeit meekly.

"Yeah. I did, but now that it's finally happened, I don't know what to believe anymore," Kanae said tiredly. "Kyoko, you need to tell him. Either tell him now, or just leave as soon as possible. Don't go to the awards show. You can't announce your relationship with him publicly, then just run off afterwards, carrying his baby, no less."

"It's not his," Kyoko snapped, feeling aggrieved suddenly, for reasons unknown. Her hand left the glass, and she brushed against her chiffon clad belly with shaking, slightly wet fingers. "It's mine. More than anything else, it's mine. I wanted it for ages, and now I have it. _It's mine."_

"No, it's not," Kanae snapped right back. There was mild sympathy in her voice, but she was brutally unhesitant in her response. "At least, it's not just yours. Hate to break it to you, Kyoko, but it takes two hands to clap. This isn't just your decision to make. It's his, as well. If you don't intend to let him make it, then don't wait until he goes to Guam when you leave. Leave him as soon as you can now. I know how you feel, but—"

"Moko-san, I'm sorry," Kyoko said, uncharacteristically calm, "but you don't know how I feel."

There was a short silence.

"Love," Kanae said, at last. The word seemed to ricochet across Kyoko's chest like a lethal whip, and she flinched. "You still won't give it a try with Tsuruga-san?"

"Moko-san," Kyoko said tightly. "Please. We've been through this." Her head jerked slightly beneath the crimson shade of the massive umbrella above her. "I need to go soon. He's going to be back anytime now."

"Soon, Kyoko," Kanae said, in her no-nonsense voice, "We're going to have to talk properly about this."

Kyoko winced. "I know, I know. To be honest, something has been troubling me for a while right now. You see, my mother—" She stopped, and tensed against the hard back of her white chair as a familiar tall, towering figure began approaching her from the distance, moving gracefully. "He's back. I have to go, Moko-san."

"Fine," Kanae said. "I'll call you later."

She hung up.

Briefly, Kyoko stuffed her phone into her clutch, before lowering the smooth leather along the side of the table. She smiled and looked up as the tall, gorgeous man appeared closer before her, dressed in a tasteful velvet dark coat and long skin-tight dress pants. The silky, loose night locks of his hair were slightly tousled by the breeze, and it only made him look all the more effortlessly elegant as always. His fluid, casual movements as he reached the table belied the immense masculine strength and power coiled and leashed within him.

"I apologize," Ren murmured, his obsidian eyes raking her small face intently beneath a row of sooty lashes. "I took a while."

Kyoko immediately raised her hands in protest. "It's perfectly fine, Tsuruga-san! It wasn't a long wait at all! After all, you had to attend to some really important matters, and I understand that!"

He smiled at her, and something about the sensual upturn of those perfect lips made her heart flip unexpectedly in her chest. He lowered himself quietly onto the empty chair opposite hers, and glanced sideways as a waiter—smartly dressed in a buttoned white shirt and waistcoat, as part of his staff uniform—materialized before them, passing the pair separate menus, before holding his notepad at the ready for their orders.

"What would you like to have, Mogami-san?" Ren inquired, dark eyes still on her.

Kyoko bit her lip, scanning the foreign words on display on the menu, as well as the ridiculous numeric figures listed beside each illustration of a sumptuous-looking dish. "Tsuruga-san… All these are too expensive… I can't…"

His smile remained, though his eyes grew softer. Without answering her, the actor addressed the waiter, before making their order for them in low, baritone serene tones. She stared incredulously at her lover, wondering whether he had even heard her—if so, he was completely ignoring her! Why couldn't he understand that she couldn't afford this? Everything about this lush seaside restaurant screamed an entire new league far beyond her reach; it screamed affluence and wealth. Goodness, it was located next to the deluxe Fullor Hotel, after all. All the other patrons were obvious figures of status or influence; they were all dressed in expensive attire from where they sat and they carried themselves with a similar air Tsuruga-san himself carried: dignity. She felt oddly self-conscious.

It wasn't the first time Ren had brought her to such an ornate and expensive place to dine, but it was certainly a rare time. Kyoko had always protested to him that she couldn't afford such places (and she did not want him paying for her), and she just as often made a fuss whenever he showered expensive trinkets or such on her person. The Queen of Rosa had nearly caused her to pass out when he had presented it to her as a birthday gift just last month—it was a freaking _diamond_, after all, and definitely not just any simple, lowly-cut diamond either. Moving into his opulent home had been one thing, but she had always very openly resisted his subtle attempts to give her a luxurious lifestyle that had initially been beyond her means. Ren had gradually allowed her little ways, at least on the surface, though the sly, intelligent male tended to use cunningly discreet ways to coerce her into accepting his expensive gifts and whatnot (the Queen of Rosa, for one).

The waiter nodded respectfully once Ren finished, and he gave a little bow in assent, before collecting both the menus back under his arm and then finally moving away from the table.

"Tsuruga-san!" Kyoko burst out, once the waiter was out of earshot. "I can't afford this, and I don't want you to pay for such an expensive meal either, at least not for me!" Ren, after all, always paid for all their meals together whenever they ate outside. This was the main reason why Kyoko insisted on her cooking their dinner at home more often.

Ren leaned back against his chair, and she stiffened slightly as those smothering dark eyes—it seemed he never once took them off her since his arrival, even when he was talking to the waiter—scanned her face, before dipping to take in her slender diminutive body. Her fingers tightened unconsciously over the chiffon hem of her summer dress, and her self-consciousness only rose further at his very open perusal of her person. He wasn't even bothering to hide it.

"Tsuruga-san!" Kyoko lifted and waved her arm at him, hoping the flush on her face wasn't too obvious. "Are you listening to me?"

The sculpted lips lifted further. "You look very fetching in that dress, Mogami-san."

Alright, there was no doubt that the flush on her face was very visible now. Her voice came out strangled. "Tsuruga-san!"

Ren finally tilted his dark head, and he let out a soft, gentle chuckle. "It's only a compliment. Calm yourself, Mogami-san."

She gave him an affronted look, her pulse racing. "Stop teasing me already!"

He murmured, "But I was merely stating my honest opinion, you know."

Kyoko's flush deepened, and she glared at him. "I've worn this so many times already. It's not even new to you anymore."

"And why would it being new change anything?" Ren questioned, his regal brows raised.

She was slightly taken aback. "I… Well…" She was at a loss of words on what to respond when a sudden realization came to her, and she inhaled sharply, her eyes staring daggers at him. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you? About the restaurant?"

He propped his chin gracefully with a long-fingered large hand on the table, observing her. "Such self-denial."

Kyoko's glower didn't falter one bit. "Tsuruga-san, I won't let you pay for me like this. Not for such an expensive place. I'll pay this time myself."

"Tell me, Mogami-san." Ren's baritone was tranquil, deceptively so. "Do you understand what I intend to announce about us at the awards event tomorrow?"

She stared at him. There he was again, digressing! She wanted to argue, but there was uncharacteristic steel in his unfathomable dark eyes that advised her otherwise.

"Um," Kyoko said uncomfortably. "I suppose so."

"And what would that be?"

Why was he pressing this? Still, she did the wise thing by complying. "That we're t-t-together?" Kyoko stuttered, her cheeks reddening further.

"And what does being together mean?"

Her hazel eyes widened. _What_ was his point? "Tsuruga-san—"

"Mogami-san."

It struck her—not for the first time—then, how ironically bizarre their situation currently was. Here the two of them sat, a couple who had countlessly explored the most physical level of intimacy together under the bed sheets at night, and yet in the day, they were still addressing each other using formal terms. She knew that there were indeed lingering barriers between them that no amount of sex and physical touch could break through—only she wasn't sure anymore if she was the one who had introduced them in the first place, and if so: was she the one who should hold the responsibility of solving them?

"Wh—why do you ask these questions, Tsuruga-san?" Kyoko said wearily.

"Because you don't seem to understand what it means to be together with someone."

His reply was unruffled, cool, and unhesitant.

"I-I do!" Kyoko said, feeling stung for reasons unknown. "How can you say that, Tsuruga-san?"

"Then you should understand that it is about time, Mogami-san," Ren said gently, but there was also something unmoved in his baritone voice that she was not foolhardy enough to ignore, "to allow me to do more of what I wish to do as your other half. When I make things clear about our relationship to the media tomorrow, I hope I'm making things clear to you as well. I will always buy things for you. I will pay for the things that will bring you delight and pleasure, regardless of their price and value. I will do them because I want to, and if you protest, it shows you do not want me. Do you understand that, Mogami-san?"

The coolness of the Queen Rosa against the feverish warmth of her neck was suddenly an unexpected contrast she had not noticed before, and she resisted the urge to reach up and grasp the little scarlet gem. For what, she didn't know.

For comfort to assuage her guilt?

Fortunately for Kyoko, she was saved from having to make a response when the same waiter appeared again, this time carrying a loaded silver tray. The delicious, mouth-watering aroma of the served dishes wafted copiously to her nose, and she felt her tummy spasm with a strong pang of hunger. She hadn't even realized how ravenous she was until the food had materialized, and her wide hazel eyes greedily took in the porcelain plates of delectable tomato spaghetti and breaded shrimps now sitting on the table before them. The clink of silverware resounded as the waiter, with a gloved hand, lifted a small basket from his tray before distributing said cutlery.

Before long, the couple was left to their own devices once more, and Kyoko lifted the cold steel of her fork, already eager to tuck in despite her initial protests about the restaurant. Hunger was, shockingly, a very powerful incentive.

"Who were you talking to on the phone just now?" Ren inquired curiously, sipping from his glass of water with an adroit large hand. Unlike Kyoko, he did not seem hungry—but then again, Ren's appetite for food had always been ridiculously limited.

In any case, it seemed that—at least for now—the matter was put to a rest.

"Oh," Kyoko said, looking up, already chewing vigorously away on the spaghetti. The hot, velvety sauce of tomato was truly orgasmic on her taste buds, and she couldn't seem to get enough of it. "It was Moko-san, Tsuruga-san! Kanae Kotonami!"

"Ah, Kotonami-san," Ren repeated thoughtfully. "She's a small-time actress, isn't she? Will she be going for the Star Awards tomorrow?"

"I don't think so," Kyoko said. "Ever since she delivered her baby, she's been keeping away from the spotlight."

His dark eyes flickered to her again, and something about the abrupt shrewdness in his gaze nearly halted her in the midst of her chewing. But then the expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared on his face, and she wondered if she had imagined it.

"Ah. I see," was all he said.

"So, Tsuruga-san," Kyoko said hastily. She was feeling slightly nervous. Surely she must have had imagined that almost knowing look in his gaze, right? "Who else is going for the Star Awards tomorrow? I know that there'll be a lot of famous people there, the both of you told me..."

He smiled warmly. "You don't have to worry. I'll keep you safe by my side at all times, and if something comes up, I'll make sure Yashiro-san looks after you. As for who else is going…" He tilted his head to the side slightly as he mused out loud. "Almost all the well-known figures in the filming industry, I suppose. Kijima-san—most certainly yes, the President, some famous directors and producers, and of course, Momose-san…"

Kyoko tried not to let her apprehension show. While she was not foreign to the showbiz world (after all, her best friend was a small-time actress who often showed up in advertisements and commercials, as well as in occasional cameos in dramas, and her ex was a famous rock-star), this much publicity wrapped in one go was still rather overwhelming for her. Sho had never brought her as his date during his tours or any music award shows; he'd always said bluntly that she didn't quite cut it for his public image. That jerk.

She didn't doubt Tsuruga-san's word that he would take care of her (for he always had), but all the same she wondered what the other high-standing celebritites would think of her when they saw her. Kyoko wasn't even an actress, or a figure of any standing in the acting industry—this time, her sole connection to the event was Tsuruga-san, and that was it. She was going to be _such _a sore thumb.

Not to mention the names Ren had listed just now was entirely unknown to her.

"Who are Kijima-san and Momose-san?" Kyoko asked.

Ren put down the glass of water, long slender fingers brushing absently against the brim. "Kijima-san is a very well-known, respectable actor here in Japan. Momose-san is an actress whom I collaborated with on my last project, the Dark Moon. In fact, we were nominated for the awards for Dark Moon regarding tomorrow's show."

* * *

Kyoko lay on the soft, plush surface of the hotel King-sized bed, her copper locks pooling the silk opulent pillows. Staying in the suite of the lavish Fullor Hotel had always been an experience beyond her wildest dreams, and yet here she was, sharing one of the grandest and largest suites with her lover the night before the critically anticipated Stars Awards. It was crazy. She didn't even need to check the prices to know that a single night in the Fullor Hotel cost a _bomb._

Not that it was night yet. In fact, it was only mid-afternoon. Ren had noticed her unusual fatigue after lunch (he was perceptive to the boot, as always, especially regarding her welfare, be it mental or physical) and had prompted that she head back to the suite for a rest before they went out for her dress fitting in preparation for the awards show. If she wasn't so alarmed about giving off unintentional tell-tale symptoms to Ren about her pregnancy (or that she was actually really exceptionally tired), she would have been rather excited about the idea of getting to try on a full-on gown later—this was about the closest thing she would ever get to living akin to the fairy tales she once so cherished and admired, after all, even though those ideas in her head had gradually shattered, torn into bitter shards. Still, when was the last time she had actually donned an evening gown? Never!

It was going to be like playing the role of a princess.

But first…

Kyoko moved her arm lethargically across the side of her bed and fumbled along the opening of her clutch, before lifting her phone out. She scanned through the screen, and then glanced at the closed timber door of the suite. Ren was currently in the opposite room (so as not to disturb her rest), no doubt discussing and making further arrangements with Yashiro-san, his manager, about the Star Awards the following day. Even now Kyoko was having trouble processing just how big and incredible the awards show was supposed to be, and that she was going be a part of it with its (undoubtedly) main highlight: Tsuruga Ren, Japan's top actor.

Momose-san and Kijima-san.

She typed the name _Momose_ into the internet search bar on her smartphone, and then widened her eyes in shock as the resulting images poured out on display.

She was beautiful.

And even in that alone it was an understatement. Momose Itsumi was a female who had earned her spot in the showbiz industry, and rightly so. She looked the part, for one thing. Kyoko continued scanning through the images on the phone, feeling taken aback and awestruck by what she saw. The tall golden-haired woman posed for the camera exactly like someone who knew how to work it well, with her long shapely legs draped artfully over whatever she happened to be sitting on, revealing the startlingly creamy sheen of her thighs and calves. She looked ravishing and breathtakingly seductive in all her photo shoots, her large crystal blue eyes coy beneath her thick array of sooty (most likely false) lashes, her expressive mouth like delicate rosebuds. Her mane was silken gold, beautiful and shiny and flowing over her gently curved shoulders like amber satin.

This was the actress that Tsuruga Ren had so casually mentioned he had collaborated with?

Kyoko, with her heart in her mouth, typed _Dark Moon_ into the internet.

Said heart nearly stopped.

It was a romantic drama. Why was she even surprised, really?

And to top it all, Ren and Momose Itsumi had posed for promotional shoots for the drama series, and Kyoko, still feeling distinctly as if her pulse had stopped completely, stared at the images of Ren holding the actress securely in his arms, his dark eyes tender and soft as he gazed at the female's face right beneath his. She recognized and knew that soft look. She'd seen it tons of times—the way he seemed to smile gently with his dark, dark eyes, instead of with those sensuous lips of his. That tender affection, sometimes so overwhelming that Kyoko allowed herself, in the briefest of moments, to believe it was close to _love_.

It was how he often looked at her.

It seemed this was also how he looked at his co-stars in his films, be it on camera or even off camera. Though, as she browsed through the related articles, it seemed Dark Moon was Ren's first love drama.

But then again, why was Kyoko even shocked? Wasn't her relationship with Tsuruga Ren no different from a film, as well? A film with its own deadline, which was by the time he headed for Guam to film his (ironically) next drama, and she would then disappear, signaling the wrapping up of the little drama series that had been their relationship. And she would leave with what she had wanted from him from the very start: a child. There. The end. The curtains would come to a close by then.

Her small hand drifted to the top of her flat abdomen. So why was she so unhappy?

She didn't know why, but she kept on looking at her phone, even though every one of the photographs added more and more to her misery. There was one shoot in particular that made her heart lurch, and not in a nice way either, but she ignored the sickening sensation in her chest.

Ren was topless, clad only in long brown leather pants, and she could see the enthrallingly powerful, sleek, chiseled muscles along his naked sinuous back bared to the camera as he crouched atop the slender form of Momose lying on the ground, who was wearing nothing… but a pair of tiny lacy panties and what looked like an overlarge masculine blazer, the sides of the unbuttoned ebony silk open to teasingly flaunt the roundness of her barely hidden breasts along the center of her front. It wasn't hard to guess whose blazer it was supposed to be, with Ren topless and all. And it also wasn't hard to see that she had a lot going on in the bust area compared to Kyoko. Their faces were mere inches apart, and they gazed at each other before the camera, seemingly in an erotic world all on their own.

Biting her lips, Kyoko dropped her phone back into the clutch by the side of her bed and headed to the bathroom, feeling more tired than ever. Her footsteps were heavy and unenthusiastic on the velvet carpeted floor—her excitement about the dress-fitting later on had rapidly faded. She didn't want to play a part in this fairy tale, false and filled with deceit as it was. And it wasn't just his deceit too, it was also hers, and the knowledge was bitter and cold in her heart.

Even the place she was currently standing in was the premise of their little drama: a five-star hotel she had never ventured in, and probably would never again. Sighing, the bronze-haired girl screwed on the golden taps, and plunged her small hands into the cold chilly water that gushed out into the metal basin. She rinsed her face, needing the refreshing sensation from the water. Droplets of the crystal clear liquid landed on her chiffon dress, but she paid it no heed.

_You look very fetching in that dress, Mogami-san_.

Another deep sigh escaped her pale lips. Who was he kidding? With gorgeous women like Momose around, she looked like a dweeb in her attire. She'd probably look like a dweeb in whatever outfit she had on during the dress fitting too. Some women naturally looked like princesses, and the dress only complimented their regal appearances, bringing out and highlighting what was already there. And yet some other women—and she was sure she fell in that category—would always be plain, no matter what they wore. In some ways, she had to thank Sho for having given her a wake-up call; his constant insults and criticism towards her looks had stamped out all hopes in her to ever remotely resemble one of those beautiful stick-thin models he often had draped on his arms.

Or in Tsuruga-san's arms, either.

She ran a hand across her face, feeling uncharacteristically frustrated. When had she become so emotionally invested in all this? The petite female lowered the toilet seat, before plunking herself down onto the porcelain throne, needing a place to sit before her legs gave way on her.

She was feeling so very tired. Her eyelids was drooping, and she leaned against the cold, unforgiving wall, and closed her eyes. Perhaps the ache in her body would eventually go away…

As for her heart, she wasn't so sure.

Kyoko wasn't sure how long she had actually fallen asleep, and in the bathroom, no less, but she stirred drowsily as she eventually came to, realizing through dulled senses that she was lying back in the large bed. The softness beneath her was undeniable, but more than that, she felt warm, and not just because of the thick comforter draped atop her, either.

It was the warm long fingers laced through her hair, and the hard muscled yet overwhelmingly comforting body pressed against hers underneath the very same comforter.

"You're awake."

His baritone voice was gentle, and she shivered as she felt the deep reverberations run up the sides of her shoulder.

"Tsuruga-san?" she mumbled sleepily, her voice hoarse even to her ears.

"Yes," he murmured huskily in response, bringing her closer to him. She snuggled into him immediately, savoring the sensation of the hard planes of his chest against her shoulder. She felt comforted, protected, and at the same time the masculine warmth he radiated was making her increasingly heady.

"I'm a little worried about you," he spoke softly, dexterous fingers still laced in her hair, and they were now stirring soothingly along her scalp. "You fell asleep in the bathroom, of all places. You've been unusually tired lately."

She loved his skin. It was so warm and smooth, like ivory…

"You carried me here?" Kyoko asked drowsily, still not fully awake. What happened to the dress fitting? Weren't they supposed to go for it?

"Of course."

She pressed her head closer to his chest. She could feel his heartbeat drumming soothingly near her ear, and she cracked an eye open, realizing she had buried her face in his pectoral.

His bare pectoral.

He was topless.

Which, of course, was nothing new, Ren often undressed himself before he joined her in bed, and she had long gotten used to it, though seeing him in the nude without breaking out into a flush was still a slight challenge to her. This time, however…

Kyoko wrenched herself from him, nearly toppling over the edge of the poster bed. The memory of the Dark Moon photo shoot ripped through her mind once more.

His dark head rose, and he stared at her, looking bewildered and slightly concerned. "What's wrong?"

What was wrong? It was an interesting question indeed, since everything was wrong.

For Kyoko had become every bit an actress since the start of their relationship just as Tsuruga-san was an actor.

* * *

_:tbc:_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed! There've been some controversial responses, and I'll address the most common issue that has been brought to my attention.

_Yes,_ it is possible for pregnancy to be detected within the first week. _Yes,_ it is also possible to suffer symptoms of pregnancy fatigue within the first week to the second week, as well as soreness of the body, specifically at certain parts (it might be rare, if one should insist, but definitely possible regardless at such an early stage). Notice that these are the few things that have been mentioned so far in this fiction. These facts are all supported by various scientific articles online on the internet.

Next, here's some news! You'll find as you gradually read the following chapters onwards along the story that there will be slight (well, maybe way more than slight, or just implied, I can't guarantee) dark themes, specifically regarding Tsuruga Ren. The best comparison I can give you using the canon manga counterpart of him is that of Kuon, also known as the well-hidden dark side of Ren. However, things will _not,_ of course, be the same as the manga, so don't worry for those who have no idea what I'm talking about. However, for those who do not like yandere themes, or themes alongside that dark vein of thought, do watch out! Reader discretion is advised.

And that's all there is I have to say. Thanks for reading, commenting, alerting (the fic), because every single bit counts so much to me! Thanks again!

**Edit: **Basically, watch out for Yandere!Ren.

* * *

_:Chapter 3:_

The air was charged as she stared at him, and he stared back. For a moment within the walls of the suite, perhaps for even less than a heartbeat, no one said anything, and the silence was empty but filled with words neither of them expressed. Perhaps it was then that she should have told him the truth: that there was _not _supposed to be love, that she wasn't supposed to be jealous, that she had chosen to be with him for the prospect of having a child she did not intend to share, that she was not supposed to fall for him, and that somewhere along the way—or maybe from the very beginning—she had failed in that aspect. Miserably.

And then that moment passed, and Kyoko hastily slammed down the sudden urge to spill to him everything. Instead, she clutched the sides of her wrinkled dress from where she was perched by the edge of the large bed, and hurriedly began speaking to quell the awkwardness.

"I'm sorry, Tsuruga-san!" she squeaked. "I'm just—I'm a little under the weather, you see, I'm sorry, I…" She sighed tiredly, and slowly relaxed back down onto the plush white bedding of the mattress. "I didn't mean to push you away, I wasn't thinking straight, is all…"

She suddenly jerked in surprise when his slender large hand reached out and gently brushed the copper spikes of her hair.

"Come back here," Ren said calmly, still in his original position. He hadn't moved from his spot on the bed at all, other than reaching for her. His fingers curled around her smaller ones, softly tugging.

Kyoko complied slowly, letting his dexterous long fingers guide her back towards his side, the comforter rustling at her graceless movements. She tried not to look at the naked wall of sleek abdominal muscles right where the sheets pooled around his narrow waist, but focusing on those intelligent liquid dark eyes was proving to be just as daunting.

Stiffly, she said nothing as his bare arms shifted and moved to wrap themselves around her small shoulders, before pulling the comforter back over her body. The warmth was more than welcoming, and she sighed slightly at the back of her throat, allowing her stiff body to ease.

She wanted to say something to break the silence, though. He hadn't showed much of a reaction to her weak attempt of an explanation just now, and it made her increasingly uncomfortable. There was no doubt that she had behaved weirdly (it was weird even to her, and that was saying something), and she felt slightly guilty for wrenching herself away from him like that with seemingly no proper explanation whatsoever.

But then again—wasn't she going to do just that to him within less than a month's time?

Kyoko bit her lip. It was fine. Ren wouldn't care… and why would he? With so many breathtaking (not to mention more than willing) women around like Momose in the showbiz world, it was, probably to him, like letting go of a troublesome pebble in exchange for several diamonds. In fact, what Kyoko wanted to know was what he was thinking, choosing this pebble even now, having had so many diamonds in the past. She wasn't sure if he'd dated Momose for real before off-screen (with an intimate photo shoot like that, along with the romance drama, did he truly not feel anything for her beyond the professionalism of their relationship?), but she knew that he had genuinely been with other models and actresses before, and those women of the latter had beauty to rival Momose's as well.

Kyoko squeaked in surprise when a long finger tipped her chin, bringing her face up to look into his. His obsidian eyes were narrowed.

"You're doing it again," he said.

"Doing w-what?" she stuttered nervously.

"Going off into your own world again," he answered simply, eyes still narrowed on her. His other arm remained wrapped around the thin curve of her bare shoulders, and she suddenly felt very naked, despite the fact that she was still wearing her dress, and that the length of her body was covered by the comforter. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing!" Kyoko blurted impulsively.

His narrowed eyes darkened, so that she could barely tell where his irises ended and where his pupils started.

"It might interest you to know that one of the perks of being an actor," Ren said softly, and the softness belied a danger she knew not to ignore, "is that I can tell, to a small extent at least, when someone is lying to me. So do let me repeat my question. What are you thinking about?"

Kyoko stared down at the thick white comforter stretched out over her torso and legs, feeling the quiet warmth of his solid grasp around her shoulders radiate through her skin. Her heart thundered despite the muted stillness of the atmosphere, and before she knew it, the maelstrom of emotions was bubbling and rising in her throat, and when she opened her mouth, they rushed out in the form of barely coherent words all strung together.

"I'm just so worried and confused and _scared_," she babbled. "The Star Awards is such a huge thing, and everyone is going to be talking about it, and the press is going to be talking about it, and everyone attending it happens to be big shots and celebrities, while I'm nothing! I'm going to be complete loser there! I don't want to put a damper to the event! If anything, I'm going to ruin Tsuruga-san's reputation by being your date, and you're obviously _the _star of the show, and I'm just a liability to your public image—"

"Enough," Ren said, still in the same low voice, and just as abruptly as the words had torn out of her mouth, she ceased talking.

One thing about Ren was that while he was gentle and tender and warm, he was also very frightening when he wanted to be.

He must had seen some of the fear in her expression, for his elegant features softened abruptly, and his hand moved to lift her small one, before bringing it near his face and brushing her bony knuckles against the perfect slant of his lips. She tried not to gasp; it felt as if fire was probing her sensitive skin, making her pulse erratic.

"I'm not angry," Ren said gently. "Not at you. So please don't look like that. I don't ever want you to look like that with me."

"T-Then what are you angry at?" Kyoko asked timidly.

"At what destroyed you and the remains of your self-esteem," he replied coolly, voice as chilly as the cold evening air outside. She flinched. His midnight eyes met her hazel ones intently. "Allow me to guess. _You're just a liability to my public image_. Fuwa Sho said those very words to you before?"

She flinched again, this time so violently it was impossible for anyone to miss it.

"It doesn't matter," Kyoko said hastily. "It's over now."

"Is it?" he responded mockingly, and she knew that the open contempt in his tone was not directed at her, but rather at her ex. His gaze was becoming more piercing than ever, and it was hard to look away, especially after how she had, albeit indirectly, admitted to him that he had been right about Sho having used those words against her.

Kyoko tried to shift her hand away from his large one, feeling uncomfortably cornered, but he refused to relinquish his grip on her. "Tsuruga-san…"

He spoke, so suddenly that she ceased trying to disentangle herself from his hold.

"Firstly, you will not ruin my reputation because you are my date, and you," his eyes darkened even further, "are _not_ nothing. And you are most definitely not a liability to my public image. Do you understand?"

There was an abrupt glow of warmth filling in her chest, and she told herself that it was _not_ because of what he had said. No, no….

Tsuruga-san was a kind person. He always treated members of the female gender well, was gentle with them, and always made sure they never got hurt. That was what made him different from Sho, who was _not_ known to be very tender with his women. Oh, Sho would never physically hurt them, of course (there was still a limit to his cruelty, and he wasn't _that _bad, loathe as she was to admit) but he was no gentleman. He was no Ren. And Ren was kind and generous to all his past lovers, and this was a well-known fact. He wasn't Japan's number one most desired man for no reason.

He was a Casanova, indeed.

It was only natural that he would try to comfort her.

"Kyoko."

It took her several seconds to realize he was calling her by her first name, and the stunned girl looked up disbelievingly, and gazed at the intent midnight eyes boring into hers.

"If anything," he went on gently, "My public image is a liability to _you._"

Kyoko's large hazel eyes widened. "Tsuruga-san, what—"

"I'm not a fool," Ren said simply. "I know that the nature of my occupation gives you much stress, and that you are constantly pressurized about it, fearing public attention should it ever be directed to you. That's partly the reason why you wished to keep our relationship secret, isn't that so? I know, and I am sorry, Kyoko, for all the discomfort my status as an actor has given you."

Kyoko felt her heart clench in a mix of sorrow and pain. She was the one who should be apologizing to him, not the other way round. _Using him as her personal baby-make_r, Kanae had said to Kyoko, rather bluntly at that. Well, the small-time actress hadn't been wrong, had she? Kyoko had done just that, even if she was certain Ren didn't love her anyway, much less be committed enough to go so far as to start a family with her (Sho had taught her that most men were commitment-phobic), but it did not change the fact that she had deceived him. He cared for her no doubt, and that in itself was tremendous to Kyoko. She wasn't a romantic fool anymore, and she knew she was probably just another in his (very long) string of lovers, but he was still a very kind person and she didn't like tricking him.

She didn't like that he was apologizing for something that utterly wasn't his fault.

She was also finding his choice of words rather alarming. _Partly the reason_, he had said. It was as if he knew that wasn't the whole reason why she wanted to keep their dating status quiet… as if he knew more than he let on about her little scheme.

Kyoko told herself she was simply thinking too much. There was no way Ren knew anything; she was tired, her fatigue wasn't going away despite having fallen asleep so soundly just now, and her guilt was also consuming her, making her overly suspicious of everything.

"There are some things, perhaps, that you do not yet know," he said, and she stilled. "Such as why I want to make our relationship public tomorrow. You see, the Star Awards is a very special occasion to me."

"I know, Tsuruga-san," Kyoko insisted. "I know how important it is to you."

"No, you don't," he interrupted softly, but not unkindly. She stared at him, slightly taken aback. "You don't realize how exceptional tomorrow's event is to me. The reason for that is because tomorrow is a celebration of Dark Moon, which is by far the most personal drama I have filmed, and a drama that holds immense significance to me."

Kyoko found herself immediately trying to hold back the bitter taste growing in the back of her throat. The hot, putrid jealousy was rising like foul unwanted tar inside her, and she hated its existence, hated what it signified about her own feelings towards Ren. The beautiful image of Momose Itsumi flashed back in her mind, and she forcibly shoved it away.

The sudden knock on the timber door came as a relief to Kyoko, who did not want to hear any more of what Ren had to say. Each word he had uttered was like a dagger to her skin, and she quickly jerked away from Ren at the sound of the clear, sharp knocks. Ren let her go, and his head turned in open annoyance at the door, ebony locks falling across sensuously carved cheekbones. His lips in a tight line, he rose from the satin bed gracefully and began moving in long-legged strides towards it. Kyoko was relieved to note that he was wearing long tight trousers after all, though she made sure she looked away from the bare sinuous, muscled curve of his perfect back.

He opened the door, and Kyoko caught a glimpse of Yashiro, his manager, standing outside, attired in his impeccable suit. He looked apologetic and slightly sheepish, especially at Ren's state of undress. She turned slightly and took a look outside the window: the sun was setting, the dark golden rays sinking through the exotic windowpanes, and realized with dismay that she had slept throughout the entire afternoon. Just how tired had she been?

Turning again, she could hear Yashiro speaking in urgent low tones to Ren. It was hard for her to hear exactly what he was saying, but she managed to catch a few words.

"Her manager is furious—"

Ren interrupted him swiftly. "Perhaps we can take this outside. Allow me to get dressed first."

Yashiro inclined his head, understanding sweeping across his bespectacled features as he moved away from the doorway. "Of course. I'll be waiting in the next room."

The door closed, and Ren turned, and regarded Kyoko. There was a curious glint in his midnight gaze, but then it was gone, as if it had never been there. She wondered, once more, if her imagination was playing tricks on her. And then the usual gentle look returned to his eyes, and now it was his turn to look apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Mogami-san," he said, reverting back to their usual forms of address. Already he was picking up his expensive russet sweater from where it lay draped over the mahogany bed stand, and tugging it over his dark head. She found it hard to tear her gaze away from the way his bare hard biceps shifted sleekly alongside his supple movements. "There've been quite a number of pressing matters as of late due to the event."

"Of course it's fine, Tsuruga-san!" Kyoko said hastily, still sitting on the bed. "I'm sorry I hindered your work, if anything! Speaking of which, what happened to the dress fitting, though? I'm sorry I slept so much…" She felt heat rush to her cheeks at her admission.

He smiled tenderly, still tugging lightly at his sweater. The smile made her heart do somersaults in her chest.

Once he was done dressing, the tall male approached the bed and leaned over, long fingers reaching and brushing aside a loose strand of copper hair lingering at the side of her reddened face. "Actually, I'm glad you managed to get your rest. Why don't you rest for a bit more, and then afterwards we'll go down to have dinner? The dress fitting can take place later on into the evening, after you're fully rested and eaten."

"O-okay." She smiled forcedly back at him, trying to sound as quietly assured as he was, but the traitorous flush on her face was unwavering due to his close proximity. God, she was such a _dweeb_.

"I'll be back in a few minutes." Ren moved away at last, and strode over to the door, before opening it with a soft click. "And Mogami-san?"

"Y-yes?"

He smiled gently at her, and she felt her flush deepen. He spoke. "You didn't hinder my work." The smile turned thoughtful. "Quite the opposite, actually."

And then the door was closed, and he was gone.

* * *

"Gorgeous… Absolutely gorgeous."

Momose Itsumi smiled lightly as she looked down into her stylist's awed eyes, before glancing back at her reflection in the full-body mirror. In her mind, she could understand how her reflection could inspire such awe; the tall elegant female looking back at her from the crystal-glass mirror was the embodiment of delightful, seductive beauty.

Her shiny, luscious gold hair had been swept to her right. The glorious locks gathered and fell in a stylishly thick flow along the perfect curve down the side of her neck all the way to the generous swell of her breasts, where the dipping neckline of her strapless, provocative evening gown boldly exposed. The expensive gown itself was made of dripping sin; it was pure jet black silk, and so tight that Momose could feel it wrapped sleekly on every inch of her smooth skin. But it was absolutely worth it, for it clung to the voluptuous curves of her figure like a second raven skin, before spanning out in an ebony silk pool around her feet. And her body, as tall and slender as a model's, was no less delightful than the dress she donned, for she was someone who worked out every week, diligently maintaining the body that was the product she sold to her entertainment agency.

Momose Itsumi was no fool. Being part of this business didn't change whether you were an actor, or a model, or a singer, or a television personality. One thing was most important: you had to look the part. You could have little to no talent in whichever aspect of the showbiz world you were in, but if you could sell yourself well, then that was all that was needed to rise in the business. Members of the entertainment industry were exactly as indicated: they were entertainers. Momose personally knew some other actresses whose flair for acting left much to be desired, but they had the ability to leave the ratings of their shows sky high.

She smiled, red lips rising.

It was all about being good at posing the part rather than working hard at the part. That was the trick.

Her smile abruptly faltered when another thought came to her mind.

Tsuruga Ren.

That man was different, however. He sold himself well, and he did and worked well in his part.

No one could deny his talented abilities in acting.

Her scarlet lips tightened slightly at the persistent thought of him. Her heavily mascaraed eyes drifted to a close, the dark curled lashes a striking contrast to her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, and took a deep breath, still looking at her mirror. The extravagant rubies gleaming from her ears and neck were a deep red, bringing out the glamour of her equally red lipstick.

"Of course she's gorgeous," another voice scoffed. Momose recognized her manager, Fuji Yuki's voice. "She was just named third in the Top Ten Sexiest Women in Japan for this year. This is from the Tokyo Times newsletter, no less!"

"Fuji-san," Momose admonished softly.

"I'm not wrong, am I?" Fuji said, smiling in satisfaction from where she stood not far from the actress. "It's good that you're modest, which is the kind of image that you need to show your fans, but there's nothing to worry about right here in our privacy. You deserve to acknowledge the rise in popularity you're currently having now."

"It was Dark Moon, isn't it?" The stylist wanted to know, as she made the final adjustments to the gown. "That was Momose-sama's breakout drama."

Momose said nothing for a short while, glancing into the mirror. It was true. Her previous dramas had done well, but they hadn't been an incredible ratings hit, even when she was playing the leading roles. She had always been known as a well-performing actress, but her popularity had never met the feverish pitch that was Tsuruga Ren's or Hidehito Kijima's.

Not until this year.

Another pause followed.

"Come on here for a bit," Fuji stated, beckoning the actress to a small round table near the door. "We have a few more minutes before we head out. I need to talk to you for a bit."

"Alright," Momose said, even though she had a pretty good idea what her manager was going to talk to her about. She glided from the front of the mirror to the table, her black stilettos moving gracefully against the carpeted floor, the hem of her gown swishing in a whip of silk. The stylist began clearing her things away.

"What is it?" Momose asked, lowering herself onto her seat, making sure she left no creases on the gown. The chandelier ruby earrings hanging from her ears swung daintily.

"How many awards has Dark Moon been nominated for tonight?" Fuji said abruptly in response, folding her arms over the front of her impeccable pantsuit. Momose noticed a bowl of grapes sitting on the table, and she took one out and popped it in her red mouth, more for a distraction than anything. "Was it three? Four?"

"It's eight," the actress replied warily, even though she knew that her manager knew the answer better than she did. Whatever reason Fuji was asking her this question for, it wasn't because she didn't know the answer to it.

"Eight," Fuji repeated clearly. She took a grape herself, before slowly sliding it through her lips. Just like everything she did, she chewed it with precision, and with unhurried deliberation. "Your past dramas didn't even get nominated for half of them for the Star Awards. You know that, don't you?"

Momose smiled softly. "Yes, I know."

"Dark Moon is your hit project, and you know it!" Fuji fired at her. "Ever since Dark Moon aired, things in Tokyo have been going crazy! Job offers are appearing at every corner for you, there've been more fan meetings arranged than ever before, magazines are publishing articles about you and Tsuruga Ren non-stop, and you've been invited for more interviews than I can count! More importantly, you and Ren—the top actor in Japan—have been called the Golden Couple by fans and the press alike!"

"I know that, Fuji-san," Momose said.

"Do you know why your popularity has skyrocketed this far?" Fuji demanded. "You're a brilliant actress, but for some reason you've only been recognized as one this year. Do you know why?"

"Because," Momose said in a gentle whisper, "I collaborated with Tsuruga Ren."

"That's right," Fuji said. She was holding onto another grape, but she didn't eat it, but simply tightened her fingers over the tiny fruit. "Your acting talent is incredible, Momose, and you know it. Tsuruga Ren was your opening to showcase that. And you know what, Momose?" She stared straight into the actress's baby blue eyes, hooded by the gorgeous curve of black mascaraed lashes. "You'll always be known as the first. No matter how many romance dramas Ren should act in in the future, no matter how many more actresses he could collaborate with, you will always be the first. It's because Dark Moon is Ren's first romance drama, and you are the first. I don't care how many dramas he's been in before, but this is his first romance drama, and everyone knows this."

Momose said, "Fuji—"

"So don't you ever undermine yourself," her manager interrupted fiercely. "Tonight is Dark Moon's night. It's supposed to be the night that belongs to the both of you: you, Japan's supposed-to-be next top actress, and Ren, Japan's top actor. It's the Golden Couple's night. So can you tell me why you're going with Kijima-kun as your date, and _not Ren_?"

The grape in the manager's hand was reduced to soggy mush in her fingers.

Bitterness suddenly welled up in Momose's chest, but she forced it away. "You know why, Fuji-san. He rejected me."

She was sure the manager had no idea how much admitting that fact hurt her; that it hurt her much more than it could ever hurt Fuji.

The manager stuffed the grape into her mouth, and then wiped her hands on a tissue from a tissue box offered by the stylist.

"I don't think you understand how important this is, Momose," Fuji said, more calmly this time. "Fans have gone mad seeing the romantic chemistry onscreen between the Golden Couple on Dark Moon. Imagine the madness that would ensue if they found out the Golden Couple was official off-screen as well. That what they've admired in fiction is finally happening in reality. Imagine the news that Tsuruga Ren and Momose Itsumi are dating off camera. Imagine the amount of publicity you've been getting… and imagine it double the amount it is now."

Momose looked down at her perfectly manicured hands, and uttered the words automatically from her lips. "You're just asking me to pull off a publicity stunt."

"Your career is one publicity stunt altogether," Fuji said bluntly. "Don't be naïve, Momose. You know it isn't just about his or her ability that makes a star popular. You should know this better than anyone. Why else haven't you been recognized for your brilliant acting until this year, where you began acting with the most famous man in Japan?"

"This isn't the point," Momose said with uncharacteristic frustration. "You think I don't want him? He doesn't want me!"

Fuji studied the flawless planes of the actress's face for a moment. "Are you sure that's the truth? All that intensity in the romance on Dark Moon… all that was truly as it is… an act?"

There was a short pause.

"It seemed so real," Momose said softly, and she slumped against her chair, a motion completely uncharacteristic of the normally graceful actress. Her crimson jewelry glowed undeterred underneath the amber glow from the ceiling lights. "You remember when he was facing difficulties in the beginning on set? When he couldn't seem to get himself together into playing Katsuki well, specifically the romance parts?"

"I remember," Fuji spoke carefully. "And then there was that change suddenly."

"Yes," Momose answered. Her gaze was distant. "I'd never seen anything like it. It was like he had completely fallen in love with me—I mean, with my character," she corrected herself quickly. "But it was so real, so genuine, so raw. It was…" She shook her golden head. "It was unbelievable. It blew me away. But I suppose that's why he's the best actor here."

"I don't think it was just acting," Fuji said slowly. "I think something happened, Momose. An inspiration, shall I say?"

Momose looked at her manager for a mute moment.

"And should I also say…" Her manager continued, her eyes unnaturally large. "That you were that inspiration?"

The actress had to struggle to hide the gleam of hope from showing on her face. It took every ounce of her acting experience to do that, and she kept her voice neutral as she answered. "That's ridiculous, Fuji-san. Why did he reject me then?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," Fuji responded briskly, leaning back against her chair. "I really don't know why he rejected you as his date tonight, especially for such an important night. But it's possible…" She tapped her chin with her French nails. "It's a publicity stunt, of sorts."

"That's crazy," Momose said incredulously. "Going with someone who's not his co-star on Dark Moon for the Star Awards? How is that a stunt?"

"You just said it," Fuji stated matter-of-factly. "People are going to talk, aren't they, when they find out about this? This is news too."

"But that's just so…" Momose shook her head again, her curled lashes blinking confusedly against her smooth skin. "Tsuruga-san doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do that."

"You trust people too much, Momose!" Fuji snapped. "Do you know what makes Tsuruga Ren so famous? It isn't just his acting abilities, my dear. You think he would never do something as lowly as pulling publicity stunts, do you? Well, that's exactly it. He pulls off stunts while playing the persona of a trustworthy, hardworking actor. He's acting even when he's not acting. That's his secret, Momose, and I think you should learn from that."

Momose bit her lip, and then quickly stopped herself. The last thing she wanted to do was mess up her makeup, even though her stylist was probably going to add the final touches on the way there in the car.

"Also, I've done research on his date for tonight," Fuji concluded.

She perked up. "Are you serious? I thought he hid her identity well!"

Fuji laughed. "Yes, it is true Ren has been very protective of his date's privacy. He's made clear orders to his management that nothing about her privacy is leaked to the media. He's been surprisingly protective, I'll give him that. But I have my sources. Do you know what I found out?"

Momose leaned forward eagerly by the edge of the table. "Who is it?"

"I don't know who she is, but I did find out this: she's not from this business."

"What?" The actress blinked. That was unexpected; Ren might be a known playboy, but he never ventured with anyone outside of the showbiz world. He'd dated actresses, some models, occasionally a singer, and even once he'd been with a female producer. But this… "Well, I suppose there's always someone new for him. Is she a famous lawyer or something? Or a doctor?"

"No, Momose, that's the shocker," Fuji said, lowering her voice and glancing at the stylist, who had pulled up another chair a couple of minutes ago into their conversation, and was also listening. "She's not famous. She's not famous for anything at all, not even for anything outside of the entertainment business. She doesn't seem to have any money if I'm not wrong, and she's not even really a looker, I heard. She's just a… common person."

Both the stylist and Momose stared in shock at her manager.

"That's ridiculous," the stylist said scornfully. "How can that be? Was she his fan, or something? Maybe she's Tsuruga Ren's sympathy date, as a treat to a fan or something."

"No, she wasn't his fan," Fuji replied quietly. "I have no idea how they met."

Momose's red-nailed hands tightened into a small fist, and her usually gentle voice had hardened with hurt. "Ren rejected me… for her?"

Her manager reached over and pressed her hand over the actress's curled one. "That's why I'm telling you, Momose, don't you give up. If things are true like I heard, then you still stand a chance. You need this chance. This is too good to miss out on, and it's not just for the sake of your career. It would be an insult to you—and the Golden Couple—if you got stood up for some common girl, isn't it?"

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A****/N:** As you can guess, Fuji Yuki is an OC that I created. I'm not sure if Momose Itsumi had an actual manager that was revealed in the manga, and if there is, please accept a thousand apologies from me for weaving an OC in my little piece of fanfiction!

Once again, thanks for reading, and do drop a review if you liked/disliked it.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I'm sorry for my ultra-late update! I normally try to update each month, but life is a hassle as always. Anyway, I will admit I was very nervous writing this chapter. I'm not confident about it at all, sadly, in regards to my writing pattern this time. This is never a good thing for a writer to admit. All the same, thank you to all those who reviewed before!

I hope you enjoy.

* * *

_:Chapter 4:_

Hidehito Kijima, Momose reflected, was quite an interesting character.

In fact, what made him interesting (and famous) was exactly just that: Character. He had character! He was not exceptionally attractive, he was not exceptionally good at acting, he was not exceptionally charismatic, but he had _character._ And it was precisely this character he had that made him shine and made people notice him. Now, this was very important for one if one belonged to the entertainment industry. This year would mark the tenth year since Kijima had joined show business, and throughout this time his fame had not waned, but had rather steadily thrived. People welcomed him on the big and small screen alike, and the headlines were constantly on the move regarding his affairs, be it private or public.

This was not to say, however, that he was as famous as Tsuruga Ren. This, though, was also not shocking, since there was no actor alive in Japan right now who had ever achieved the kind of feverish pitch of fame Ren had received since his debut. This was because unlike Hidehito Kijima, Ren didn't just possess character; he also was exceptionally attractive, was exceptionally good at acting, and was exceptionally charismatic. He most certainly shone and made people notice him.

Which was probably why he was all Kijima talked about for the past half an hour since Momose had joined him in the limousine on the way to the Star Awards.

"I'm not going to ask you questions, don't worry," he was saying, reclining on the seating of the car, looking relaxed. Dressed in a rich black tuxedo, he looked very smart and charming, and she had to admit that Kijima always looked the part of the veteran actor that he was. "Ren's business is his own, and as a fellow celebrity I understand this concept all too well, similarly for myself—" Of this fact Momose wasn't sure, as Kijima was one who reveled in the spotlight and hardly ever hid his personal life from the public. "—I can't say the same for the press, unfortunately. I really hope he knows that he'll be getting a lot of flak from them—and his fans—when they find out later that he's going to the awards with a date that isn't you. The Golden Couple is a really big thing that's been circulating around right now, after all, and fans are going to expect what they want."

Momose looked at him apologetically from where she, too, sat poised on the expensive leather seat of the limousine. The air conditioning of the sleek, luxurious the car was on an all-time high, and she thanked the heavens for the large mink wrap she had wrapped around her.

"I'm really so sorry, Kijima-kun," she smiled softly. "But even if you ask me anything, I truly can't help you. I'm every bit in the dark as you are on who Tsuruga-san's date is. But we'll find out later, I'm sure."

Kijima grinned at her. His gaze on the curves of her body was a teensy bit too appreciative that was appropriate, but she didn't mind. With the revealing black gown she was wearing, along with her exquisitely made-up face and polished ruby jewelry, she was bound to attract entranced stares from all around her. The chauffeur of the limousine had stared at her too, when opening the door to let her in.

"I'm not complaining, oh no," he chuckled. "Ren's the idiot who is missing out. Thanks to him, I get to reap the goods here!"

She laughed good-naturedly, letting her cheeks go a little pink at his compliment. She wasn't uncomfortable with his open appreciation with her appearance. She was getting used to this appreciation, after all. Attention was something that was becoming very common to her ever since she had filmed the hit drama that was Dark Moon. She welcomed attention, she supposed, though not to the extent that it made her arrogant. How could she feel proud when she was not even receiving the attention from the man she truly wanted to get it from?

"Speaking of which, though," Kijima began suddenly, appearing interested. "There've been rumors that our fellow Ren has found someone new. About time, I should say."

Her laughter faded gently.

"Oh, but surely," she said, her voice deceptively careless, "those are baseless rumors."

"I don't think so," Kijima said seriously. "I mean, yes, I do agree that it's a bit… strange, since Ren doesn't usually hide his lovers. It's true he's extremely private outside of his work, but he's always been straightforward on whom he's dating. Besides, his past girlfriends have always been more than excited to let people know they're dating him, even without him saying it. They love the publicity."

Momose paused, trying to suppress the squirm of discomfort at the memory of what her manager had discussed with her mere hours ago. She quickly shrugged the feeling aside, not allowing it to surface in her expression.

"Well," she said, "Perhaps he's being quiet because there really isn't anyone to mention in the first place."

Kijima picked up an iPad from the side of the black tinted window of the limousine, and turned it on, before moving his fingers across the screen deftly. She watched him curiously, wondering what was going on. A few minutes later, he passed her the electronic device, and Momose saw that a video was being played. He had fast forwarded it into some time halfway, and gingerly she peered closer at the screen.

It was an interview with Ren, on some celebrated talk show. She knew the host, of course. In fact, she herself had once been invited to make an appearance in this very talk show, though that was about a few months back. The talk show was a very famous one, and Momose felt surprised that she wasn't made aware of this interview until now, especially with the huge number of viewer hits this viral video had made online. But then again, she had been so busy as of late, and her manager—who saw everything—must had seen this and chosen not to tell her about it.

She watched the video.

The talk host was leaning forward eagerly in his armchair, addressing Ren who sat opposite him. The interview had already started a good way back, and Kijima had fast forwarded a couple of minutes into it. "Word around town, my friend," the host said, "is that you're dating again. We're talking about Japan's top ladies' man here, who has been single for the past one year as of late. Is it true that you've finally gotten some rain from the drought?"

Momose felt her heart flip slightly as she looked at Ren, lounging in his seat like a lazy large feline. Dressed in a loose long dark cardigan over his broad shoulders, he looked casual yet gorgeous. His dark eyes, at that moment, were alit with polite amusement.

"The press has always been immensely interested in my love life," he said languidly, appearing rather unruffled, as though he had expected the question. And he probably had. Momose's traitorous heart did another mad flip in her chest at the deep, rich sound of his voice, and she fought the urge to flush. Kijima was right next to her, and the last thing she wanted to do was to let him on how she was actually feeling. "More interested, sometimes, than in my acting."

"Well, can you blame us?" The talk show host laughed good-naturedly. "The people want to know if Japan's number one bachelor is off the markets, and yes, that includes us boys, to know whether we still actually stand a chance with the ladies—" Laughter sounded from the audience. "—so come on, can't you throw me a bone here? We all just want to know if you're taken! Everyone here can keep a secret, so don't worry!"

More laughter ensued from the audience, and Ren's amusement remained.

Once the laughter died down, he finally spoke again, this time seemingly more serious. His dark eyes looked thoughtful.

"When the right time comes," he murmured serenely, "I will let you know."

The talk host shot forward in his seat like he had been electrified, his eyes widening in excitement behind large horn-rimmed glasses. He looked as though he had stumbled across a gold mine. And he most likely had, Momose thought. Ren's matter-of-fact response was already causing a stir in the audience, judging from the high volume of noise they were making.

"The right time, you say? So there _is_ someone!" The host proclaimed triumphantly, practically quivering in eagerness in his chair. Turning to face the audience (and the camera), he went on to announce his next statement.

"You heard it here first! Tsuruga Ren has found someone new, though he's still keeping quiet about it!"

The audience was screaming and cheering at his words, and Momose caught sight of several of its members as the camera directed itself to them—the young girls especially—shrieking their heads off and clutching each other from the rows of seats they were situated in.

It took a while before the screams died down slightly, and the camera moved back into focus at Ren, who remained calmly seated in his armchair opposite the host, his dark brows raised with entertainment. It was hard to tell how he was taking this, and yet Momose felt perturbed that he wasn't bothering to deny what the host had said (though he hadn't exactly confirmed it either). Her mind flashed back to what Fuji had said about his companion tonight at the Awards—that she was a mere civilian outside of the entertainment business.

_Was Ren really dating her?_

"Congratulations, man," the host said, once the noise had gone down somewhat. "Really, congratulations."

Ren simply smiled and said nothing.

"I know you won't say who the lucky girl is, though it's alright if I make a few guesses, isn't it?" the host went on genially. "You won't have to say it, but I think we all know—"

"I highly doubt this is a guess you are able to make," Ren said gently.

Momose inhaled sharply. Her suspicion about what her manager had told her just now was rapidly growing. Surely this was impossible? Ren had always been one who was surrounded by beautiful models and actresses; what was he doing with a normal civilian, who, according to Fuji, had nothing special going on, neither in her looks nor career nor family background? Highly successful men like Ren would only be doing charities by striking up a relationship with her.

But then again, Ren was the sort of man who would do that sort of charity. He was kinder than anyone she knew.

"Oh, but I think I can," the host said cheerfully. "The Golden Couple, anybody?"

This brought about another wave of applause and cheers from the audience, and she thought that some of the young girls amongst the audience would probably lose their voices later from the way they were screaming. Even now, the exuberance from the adolescent teenage girls in Ren's fanbase still startled her.

She made sure, then, to avoid looking at Kijima from beside her as the screams went on for a couple more seconds in the video, before slowly going down.

Ren had spoken.

"Miss Momose is someone whom I've had the great fortune to meet," he stated courteously. "She is a wonderful acquaintance and a great friend—if I may have the privilege of being her friend—but our relationship is a solely professional one."

Suddenly Momose was beginning to realize why Fuji had concealed this video from her, if the tightness of her chest was any indication.

"Of course, of course," the host was saying slyly. "At least it'll seem so until the 'right time', as you said so yourself, right?"

"There is no such thing as a right time, I'm afraid," Ren responded, his perfectly shaped dark brows curved sardonically, "in regards to herself and I."

"I see," the host said, though it was hard to tell if he—or the audience—really saw. In any case, Momose could see the host was about to change the subject. She didn't blame him. There was something oddly final in Ren's tone of voice, though he had remained every bit as polite and cordial as before. It was enough, though, to intimidate the host not to press any further.

"Still, you've been single for a really long time," the host continued. "For someone who has been in many relationships, a whole year of being single must be quite something! Is it because you wanted to take a break from dating? For I know there's no such thing as a _lack _of women who want you—"

"On the contrary," Ren said graciously, his perfect lips upturned in a curious smile, "there was someone I wanted throughout that time, but couldn't have."

"Oho!" the host said incredulously. "Is there such a thing?"

Ren smiled again, moving his dark head gracefully. "You flatter me," he said. "But yes, there is most certainly such a thing. That someone was in a relationship with another person, as it happens."

"_Was?_" the host echoed. "So you nailed her, didn't you?"

Ren laughed; a rich, glorious baritone sound.

"When the right time comes," he drawled slowly, almost teasingly, "I will let you know."

Momose, still watching the interview intently, jumped lightly when Kijima moved over and took the iPad away from her manicured hands suddenly. A reckless part of her wanted to complain and try to grab it back—she wanted to see the rest of the talk (even though Ren didn't seem keen to reveal any more than he already had)! But Kijima was frowning now, and she couldn't fathom why. And then it hit her all of a sudden, in that lightning moment, as she realized why Kijima had even showed her this video regarding Ren's interview.

This wasn't just gossip, doubtless as it might have seemed to be. Kijima, a well-known older actor himself and being good friends with Ren, was naturally very interested in his friend's affairs, and thus it did appear normal for him to gossip a little about his enormously famous acquaintance. But Kijima did seem a little too interested at the moment.

She glanced out of the heavily tinted car window, looking at the vaguely obscured streets shooting past their way. There was still quite a way to go before they arrived at the Star Awards.

Then she looked back at Kijima, her ruby earrings swinging daintily.

"Kijima-kun," Momose said softly. "Why did you show me the video?"

Kijima looked uncomfortable, and he reached his hand up to lightly touch his dark blue bow tie.

"Look here, Momose-san," he said, letting out a breath. "You're a very charming and wonderful lady, and I admire you very much. What I hope at the very least is that I don't get mixed up in any… misunderstanding, if you know what I mean. Ren is a good friend of mine, and he is not the kind of man I would dream of crossing."

"Misunderstood business?"

He shrugged. "Of course. The mysterious woman Ren was clearly talking about in the interview… It… well, is it you?"

She stared at him, deeply mascaraed eyes blinking. "I thought Tsuruga-san made that very clear it wasn't." The admission was harder for her to make than she had thought.

He looked embarrassed. "My apologies. But you have to forgive me for this, because a lot of people—as you can tell from the video—came to the same conclusion as me. You see, he spoke about himself wanting a woman who happened to be in a relationship with another man at that time… and you were in a relationship with some footballer last year. And then there's this Golden Couple thing going on—"

Understanding was beginning to dawn on her.

"So I thought he was secretly dating you recently, but he didn't want to admit it yet to the media. And then I thought the two of you had a tiff or argument or something tonight, and that was why both of you came with different dates, to spite each other at the Star Awards. Why else would you not go with each other when the two of you were nominated together for so many awards on Dark Moon tonight? It was only right that you two came together. And I must admit that I felt uncomfortable knowing I might have been caught in the middle of something rather discomfiting, if you must admit, but I was greatly charmed by you and—"

She continued staring at him.

Kijima had no idea, she supposed, that she dearly wished how much he had said was true. But the fact was, she was _not _dating Ren, had barely communicated with him even (aside from having some interviews together in regards to promoting Dark Moon, as well as shooting some commercials together) and all in all it was saddening. He was always friendly and kind to her, but he had never shown any non-platonic indication of pursuing her outside of work. It occurred to her then, that according to what Ren said, the _civilian, _not her,_ might have been in another relationship with someone else before. _

She shut the idea out as soon as it came to her.

Kijima was still talking, and yet she could tell he was greatly relieved. "I showed you the video because I was suspicious, and I wanted to see your reaction. But if you say it isn't true, then it most likely isn't true—"

"Kijima-kun," Momose said firmly, "It isn't true. I know it seems strange that we, as the Golden Couple—as the press so calls us, anyway—aren't together as dates at the event show, but we are truly only co-stars. There isn't a misunderstanding, and you aren't caught up in anything that might put you in an uncomfortable position."

Kijima relaxed. "Well, I see. I'm really sorry for the whole thing, I truly am—"

"However," she went on, tugging at her mink wrap daintily with long nails, "there is also no way Tsuruga-san is dating this woman whom he is bringing to the Star Awards."

Kijima looked curious. "Why not?"

Momose turned her elegant golden head back to the car window, and spoke with more force that she had intended to show.

"Because I heard from my manager that she is only just a civilian. Nothing more. A man of Tsuruga Ren's standing and success can't possibly fall for someone so... opposite. It is, forgive me, rather absurd."

He stared at her wonderingly. "Could it be… Momose-san…you—?"

* * *

The crowd was insane.

Momose, her bare arm hooked alongside Kijima's reassuring one, waved with her other arm at the thick knots of people lining the sides of the red carpet. Behind them, the limousine swept away. Photographers and paparazzi were literally swarming around the couple like bees to honey, the camera bulbs flashing in a blinding glow as they followed the pair along the red carpet while snapping photos of them all the way. The noise was deafening; people were talking all at once, some were cheering, and some were simply making incoherent noises at the sidelines. Somewhere in the front were other celebrities, dressed expensively and chatting with reporters and fellow celebrities alike.

The Star Awards was truly a huge and lavish affair.

Momose smiled, and posed as several cameras went off at once, surrounding her in all angles. She knew she looked amazing in her strapless black gown, for at that moment since she had stepped down from the limousine with a graceful turn of her stilettos she was all the crowd would look at. Kijima, who looked no less charming in his tux, was busy answering questions from some of the hungry reporters, and she had to contend with her own as well.

The questions were like bullet fire, though fortunately she was used to it. "Where is Tsuruga Ren? Why are the two of you not together tonight? Is tonight not Dark Moon's night for the Golden Couple?"

"Tonight is Dark Moon's night, indeed," she said, smiling in a way only her years as an actress allowed her to. "I'm very happy to be a part of this and be able to promote Dark Moon tonight, and I'm sure Ren is too, when he comes later—"

"But why are the both of you not here as dates? There's been a rumor around that the two of you have been actually dating off-screen, but trying to keep it low-profile for some reason?"

Momose's red lips smiled coyly once more, and she looked very much like a naughty seductress then, with the golden curls of her silky hair laid out across one side of her hugely exposed breasts. The flash of the camera went off then, illuminating the gorgeous features of her face. "This wouldn't be the right time for me to disclose such things! All I can say is that Ren and I are very good friends, and I'm glad to be able to have worked with someone of his caliber in this business."

And then Kijima was tugging her arm slightly, and she followed, sauntering alongside him like a model on the catwalk, despite the fact that she was secretly hoping to get to the end of the red carpet as soon as possible, where the other celebrities were. There were still other reporters there, oh yes, but at least the bulk of the press was gathered by the length of the red carpet. There should be roughly around half an hour more before everyone could gather inside at the main hall, and then to the theatre seating where the Awards was to take place.

Kijima stopped suddenly in his step, and she nearly stumbled, so caught unaware was she by his abrupt halt. Catching herself, and making sure that her hourglass black gown had not suffered damage, she turned back to look at Kijima, her heavily made-up blue eyes slightly annoyed. He nodded at where he was looking, though, and she followed the direction of his scrutiny, towards the opposite side of where they were heading.

Another limousine—white, instead, rather than black, as was most of the limousines—had made its appearance by the front of the red carpet, and almost at once reporters swarmed in, their cameras raised and their knees bent to capture the perfect angle of the newest celebrity couple who were no doubt inside the sleek vehicle.

The door opened, and screams resounded all around them as Tsuruga Ren appeared, flanked by his manager and bodyguards. This was rather surprising, for he was not known for having bodyguards.

Momose had to swallow hard as she looked at his tall, gracefully intimidating figure, dressed elegantly in a white Armani suit. Even his long dexterous fingers were gloved an exquisite white from where he held the car door languidly. The pale color of his regal attire was a startling yet delicious contrast to the dark of his piercing eyes and dark glossy swept hair. His features were truly perfection, she thought. His marble cheekbones were high and carved aristocratically, and his lips were slightly curved in a small smile, midnight eyes flashing. He looked like a figure which had come alive from amongst the Greek Gods.

She was not the only one who thought that way, for many females from the crowd surrounding them were screaming, their voice piercing in ecstasy. The cameras were flashing already, the shutters slamming. The screams were becoming coherent, and it took her a moment to realize what the crowd was chanting.

"The Golden Couple! _The Golden Couple_!"

Kijima looked skeptical. "I wonder how his date feels about this when she hears that."

"She's not coming out of the car," Momose observed, making sure she kept her own derisiveness out of her voice. "Is she afraid? I guess for someone who doesn't belong to this business, it must be very daunting for her."

Kijima shook his head. "I respect Ren, but what is he thinking? If your manager is right, bringing a non-celebrity here is a big mistake. This isn't easy, you know."

A few seconds passed, and even the reporters were lowering their cameras quizzically, before exchanging glances with each other. Some celebrities behind Momose and Kijima were murmuring under their breaths, and meanwhile the crowd's repeated rants on the words "_Golden Couple_" were getting louder and louder.

Momose chanced a glance at Ren. He wasn't looking at the reporters surrounding him, or even making a response to what the crowd was screaming, even though it was impossible for him not to hear the words echoing around the great foyer. Instead, his unwavering, calm dark gaze was directed to the interior of his car from where he held the door. She felt a twinge of disappointment, but hid it behind her impassive façade. Whoever had signed up as his date for the Awards show was most certainly in for a tough time tonight. This was only the beginning, after all.

And then he suddenly moved the door back further, and the Dark Moon actress widened her crystal blue eyes in disbelief as a long pale leg appeared into view. Platform heels landed on the ground briskly as a rather petite woman appeared out of the light-colored vehicle, her matching white outfit flowing in graceful cadence behind her as she moved.

The crowd suddenly fell silent, their screams fading away, and even the cameramen seemed to have stilled in that single heartbeat.

She was dressed in what looked like a creamy white thigh-length pencil dress that fit her curves snugly. While Momose had gone for a completely strapless design on her black evening gown, Ren's date wore a long-sleeved dress that ended at her thighs, though when she turned slightly Momose was shocked to see a huge diamond-shaped gap cut artistically along the milky-white material on the small of her back, baring her lovely skin underneath. Her dress was rather unusual as well, for from where her small waist tapered in and her hips swelled, a long somewhat see-through thick lacy veil flowed from around the circular waistline of her tight dress all the way to the dark red of the carpet beneath her feet.

She seemed almost ethereal.

Her copper hair was not long, and was casually done up in a small messy bun at the nape of her slender neck, and Momose saw that there was a white rose glowing from amongst the soft wavy locks framing the sides of her cheeks. Her make-up, as well, was not heavy, though her lashes were very long. Her eyes looked huge on her small face, unblinking and cool and yet also slightly tired. While Momose had gone for matte red as her lipstick, the woman's lips were a glossy pink, making her mouth look very small and luscious. She looked, Momose thought, like an innocent flower compared to her own seductive chose of wear.

She was also very beautiful.

Momose glanced at Kijima beside her.

He appeared absolutely dumbfounded.

Surely this could not be the civilian Fuji had spoken about?

* * *

_:tbc:_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** The beginning of this chapter might seem a bit of a discord in relation to the story's flow, and while I'm sure readers are probably confused by what I'm saying right now, you'll get what I mean in the next minute once you start reading the chapter. This chapter doesn't start off as a direct continuation from the previous one, but when it comes down to it everything is interconnected, so read on and don't worry. I won't say any further, but you'll see in future chapters! Thank you for everyone's kind support previously, by the way! (Also, I don't know if anyone noticed before, but this story is M-rated, and this chapter is going to be one of the many coming reasons why.)

I hope you enjoy.

* * *

_:Chapter 5:_

Kyoko and Ren had not been together for long, but they had been together long enough where they got to celebrate certain occasions with each other. Throughout the past month since she had moved into his home to live with him, they had celebrated a few special occasions together as a couple, away from the public eye and the pesky cameras which were a central part of Ren's career.

There had been two most …_memorable_ (for lack of a better word) occasions during their past month together, and not in a necessarily good way.

The first occasion was when Ren had been away an entire afternoon at another cinematic awards' show (the show was, however, nowhere as big as the Star Awards show, the latter of which had been held annually for several past consecutive decades and remained to be Japan's most influential and prestigious ceremony every year, in celebration for both productions of the small and big screen) and Kyoko, who had stayed at home—his lavish home technically—and watched the awards event unravel on television, had thus witnessed the inevitable moment where her lover had won every award in which he had been nominated for. The awards then were for a critical box office success of a movie he had starred in that had been released a while back.

Kyoko wasn't even surprised, though she did feel rather awed. She'd only started dating him for a few weeks back and he had already won the first of many awards to come since their relationship had commenced.

Before they had dated she had heard of Tsuruga Ren, of course, since he was a very huge household name around the globe and it was impossible not to have known of him, but other than that she'd never really expressed much interest in his person, though she had secretly noticed that he was a very attractive actor. Back then Kyoko had been besotted with Sho—the biggest mistake of her life, as it seemed—and there was no other man then who could have held her attention for more than a minute.

At least until she'd seen Sho with that beautiful model-actress—with breasts twice her own size, of course—in a very passionate lip-lock.

That was a memory responsible for a great deal of change in her life; a change that no longer welcomed men to ever revisit her lonely heart, and which welcomed the idea of a solitary world that would consist of just her and the child she had desired for so long, to substitute for her loneliness.

It was unfortunate that the latter could not work without the former.

And yet the strange thing was that any thoughts about having a child had not been on Kyoko's mind at all when she had texted Ren that day, asking him to invite Yashiro-san over for dinner tonight, where she would be cooking up something delicious for both of them as a form of congratulations about Ren's incredible achievement. At that moment, she did not notice it, but she had completely forgotten about her elaborate and desperate scheme from the very beginning on having Ren father the child she had secretly wanted, before leaving him as soon as she could once she had achieved her goal—she cared only on how deliriously happy she was for him.

It had never occurred to her what any of that could have signified.

Part of the reason Kyoko had asked Yashiro to join in that night was because he no doubt deserved a share of the credit regarding Ren's achievement, being the actor's very responsible and meticulous manager. Another part of the reason was that while Kyoko knew Ren appreciated the savor of good food as much as the next person, a savor was, as so put it, enough for the male. He had never been one for dining huge amounts of food, having a ridiculously limited appetite. Kyoko, on the other hand, was determined to whip up something tasty for Ren that night, and a sumptuous meal at that. If he was unable to take in every bite offered from the rich, abundant quantity of dishes she was going to make, then she was going to ask for reinforcements to help him out. Meaning: Yashiro-san.

The meal that night had passed pleasantly enough, and she had never felt happier at the prospect that she had managed to whip up something home-cooked for him (even though she did it often enough during some evenings at home together when they didn't head outside to dine, though it was never to such a lavish extent as was the celebratory feast that night). The truth was that there was little else she could offer him. For one thing, she didn't have much money, not to mention living with him meant that she was dependent financially on him to a significant extent, and she doubted she could get him anything that he couldn't get himself. He was, after all, a famous public figure, and his vast wealth was not something to be taken upon lightly.

A cooked meal, on the other hand, was something that was made from the heart, and she was confident that it was the best that she could offer him. Kyoko had even gotten some champagne along, despite herself being quite a lightweight. She hadn't intended to drink at all (and was simply content to watch the others—who were no doubt more experienced with alcohol—enjoy the wine) until Yashiro had insisted she join him to toast for Ren.

And so the first special occasion the couple—and Yashiro—shared together passed in a delirious blur, at least to her. The last thing she remembered through a drunken stupor was herself persistently demanding the other two males for more of the wine, even though the champagne bottles were already empty, much to her intense dismay then. According to a humored Yashiro a day or so later (Ren had refused to tell her the exact happenings, more in consideration for her feelings than anything else), the celebratory dinner had ended with a firm Ren scooping her protesting—not to mention inebriated—form up from her chair and carrying her off to their bed, while Yashiro tried to clean up some of the mess she had made on the dining table in her wild but futile attempts to search for more wine. (Apparently she had even tried to undress both Ren and Yashiro in order to search for some "hidden wine bottles" they might be concealing from her.)

Until today, the mere memory—or lack of it, due to her mental blackout from the alcohol—of that first occasion still made her cringe.

The second occasion, of course, was her birthday, which had taken place less than a week from then.

She had awoken in the morning of said birthday, gasping lightly from her disrupted slumber, feeling a curiously throbbing—not to mention extremely pleasurable—heat welling up within her, and through widening, sleep-dazed eyes, realized abruptly that Ren's dark head was between her open bare legs. His equally bare muscled shoulders were bent, large hands gently lowered over her naked calves, keeping her in place.

And it was then when she finally registered a skillful, heated tongue lapping at her moist nether walls.

Kyoko let out a sound that seemed to be a cross between a gasp and a moan. Her sleepiness seemed to fade away almost at once. She was currently curled as naked as a baby on their massive bed, as a result from their intense lovemaking just the night before. It was a surprise (though in no way was it an unpleasant one) for her to awaken to see her lover still around, much less attending to her, especially in the morning. The thing was, she and Ren rarely partook in any sexual activity in the mornings—his busy schedule as Japan's top actor was one that demanded his presence early in the day, regardless of whether it was a weekend or weekday. And thus every morning he would leave their warm bed and be gone by the crack of dawn, heading for a hectic day of work.

It was not something she enjoyed, waking in an empty bedroom every morning, but it was something she understood and respected about him.

The bedroom she shared with Ren was opulent and enormously spacious, not unlike the interior of a plush hotel suite. She had heard that he had purchased this home only just last year—had purchased this glamorous three-storey modern terrace house as his own about less than a year before their relationship had started. What little neighbors he had were barely ever home. Kyoko wasn't sure about the circumstances, but it seemed the neighbors were a rich elderly couple who were always overseas. This was obviously a good thing, since Ren, despite his career, treasured his privacy deeply outside of work.

The master bedroom was, as aforementioned, huge. It was a few times bigger than Kyoko's _living room_ back in her own home (a tiny apartment), and despite the fact that she was sharing her new room with someone, the vast space of it still awed her. Sharing the place with an intimate roommate was one thing (for even though she had dated Sho before, she was never invited to move into his own large expensive home, other than spending a few nights here and there), but getting to stay and live in such an enormous house was another thing altogether.

There was one bathroom in the master bedroom, but she never found it bothersome to have to share it—although of course, she could always use the other numerous bathrooms available within the house that were outside the room, if the call of nature was intense and the one in her bedroom was occupied at the same time, which rarely, if never, happened—as Ren was completely unlike Sho, who loved to hog the bathroom, mostly to admire himself in the mirror. Ren's bedroom was also neat and tidy, another thing that was unlike Sho, whose room looked as if a hurricane had passed through it. The singer had always bragged that he kept his room the way it was because a messy room kept his thoughts and musical muse ticking.

The bed was, naturally, the highlight and glory of the bedroom she shared with Ren: it was a king-sized double four-poster bed, and big enough for her to lie alone on the sinfully comfortable mattress with all four limbs outstretched and still not touch the edges of the bed. When she had first seen it upon moving in she had immediately been nervous, for a bed of that size and design spoke of frightening intimacy and physical joining, and shortly after that first night in the house, she had found out—in an exhausted yet utterly contented daze the following morning, not to mention that her body was adorned with love bites all over her private areas—that she was hundred percent right.

But that was why Kyoko had moved in in the first place, wasn't it? If she was to get what she wanted, that bed would serve its purpose perfectly.

She was unused, however, to spending every night in said bed since the few weeks together with Ren. While they did not make love every night, as there were some days where he came home late from work and she had already accidentally fallen asleep, having failed in her attempt to stay up to wait for him (his filming schedules sometimes took place late into the evening and ended somewhere in the middle of the night) or that she was feeling sore and tired, the fact that she was to spend consecutive nights in his bed, in his embrace, scared and thrilled her, in ways that even until now, she couldn't comprehend.

Kyoko was even more afraid that if she comprehended them, it might signify something she could never allow herself to signify.

All she wanted was a child; _that was all._

And yet a child was the last thing on her mind this morning.

"Tsuruga-san," she gasped out, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the comforter, which lay crumpled by her side, slightly covering her abdomen. "What are you—" Her sentence was broken off by a shrill, high-pitched gasp as his dark head descended further and an almost feline tongue languorously explored the already damp folds of her naked core. Her slender, shapely legs, currently spread apart beneath his broad, powerful shoulders, shook violently.

He chuckled, and the deep vibrations seemed to echo through the dewy, scarlet petals of her delicate entrance like an electric shock. The sensitive junction between her legs tingled. She panted heavily, her fingernails digging into the soft but thick surface of their comforter. It was to her dismay when she felt his lips move away and slide downwards onto the pale creamy skin of her inner thigh.

"_Tsuruga-san,_" she hissed out desperately, feeling the urgent heat in her womb intensify at being ignored. She could already feel the bedding beneath her become slightly wet from her dripping arousal.

He chuckled again.

"What is it you want… little one?" he murmured, nipping the soft flesh of her small thigh. His sharp teeth sank against her skin, and she inhaled forcefully at the mixture of pain and pleasure that buzzed through her nerves from the touch. He was, she knew vaguely through a rapidly growing lust-clouded trance, marking her once again, this time on her thigh.

Nothing seemed to please her lover more than marking her, as it turned out. She had not detected it at first, however. The love bites she had noticed in the following mornings after previous sessions of lovemaking were always situated near her private areas, and she easily covered them up with the clothes of her attire. It wasn't until she had been casually conversing with a few shopkeepers and retail assistants during her shopping expedition later when she noticed that they were giving her strange looks.

She had gotten home and hastily examined herself in the mirror as soon as she stepped through the door, and it had taken her several seconds after looking closer—and after looking at herself in every angle that her flexibility allowed her to attempt—to realize with some horror that the darker shade of little love bites were sneakily visible in less obvious areas (especially to even herself) on her such as the back of her neck and beneath her little jaw.

Ren's gentle but otherwise matter-of-fact words after she had confronted him rather violently about it that following evening still rang in her mind today. The markings, he had said, were meant to keep out others who came too close to her. If they were not of close proximity with her, they would not notice his markings, which were located rather inaccessibly—but if they did, then the warning was enough for them to act accordingly: they were to back off.

He had almost been _territorial._

And it seemed she liked it more than she would admit.

"_Please,"_ Kyoko whispered then, her small hands reaching to grasp the silky raven locks of his hair. He stilled, but she could feel the sculpted lips curve into a curious smile against the now marked skin of her quivering inner thigh.

He pressed a lingering kiss to the reddened love bite, and moved his regal head, lazily dragging the sleek length of his velvet-smooth tongue across the creamy flesh of her thigh all the way to the slippery, throbbing folds that were the eager entryway of her womanhood, making her shudder uncontrollably. His long dexterous fingers reached out, and gently caressed the dark thatch of pubic curls—the curtains did not match the drapes, evidently—adorning her feverish arousal. Lifting one of her legs over the taut, muscled curve of his shoulder, he leaned forward once again, his talented tongue dancing across her swollen labia, and she cried out in carnal bliss.

His tongue—experienced as it was—pushed deeper into her pulsing femininity and easily located her clit, and she found herself arching her back on the bed, copper hair pooling the pillows, and wailing as he flicked unapologetically at the blood-filled bud peeking through the pink, soaked walls of her dripping nectar. The small mounds of her naked breasts rose and fell harshly as she drew breath to wail out further in her rapture.

It was a good thing that his house was sound-proof, and that his neighbors were barely home as it was.

His white teeth expertly scraping against the sensitized, vulnerable pearl amongst the plump crimson folds of her moist honey proved to be her undoing; her lips parted to let out a silent scream this time, and the entirety of her miniature, frail frame tensed like a strung bow before giving way and writhing in an unbridled, fierce orgasm along the crumpled white comforter. He held her trembling legs protectively in order to make sure she did not hurt herself, while pressing a lasting kiss on her labia, feline tongue casually lapping away at the sudden squirt of juices emitted from her core. His eyes had darkened as he made love to her with his lips.

Kyoko had barely recovered from the earth-shattering release when she felt his hands on her legs shift away, and then a long slender finger entering and stretching out her tight passage, while another finger reached and rubbed her pulsating nub, the callouses of his skin stimulating her clit. The sodden opening of her womanhood was still hypersensitive and quivering in aftershocks from her first orgasm that she felt herself giving a choked, incoherent shriek of her lover's name as the second rapidly followed. The burning pleasure was so intense that her vision was momentarily blinded, and her mind seemed to shut down—the only decipherable thought that remained in her head was _Ren…_

Kyoko wasn't sure how long she took to regain her senses. It could have been just as easily a few minutes as it could have been a few hours.

Her eyelids slowly opened (she wasn't even aware that she had squeezed them shut), and they felt wet with mild tears. Her vision took a few seconds to get back into focus; she breathed heavily as her drumming heart gradually calmed down in her chest, and she was somewhat aware that the fine bones of her body seemed to have been reduced to mush on the soft bed, making her sleepy and slightly disorientated.

It was then that she realized Ren had moved; he had risen from his initial position at the foot of the bed—where he had been between her legs—and was now languidly lounging directly beside her on the bed, his elbow resting on the white pillows, his face close to hers. Recognizing the piercing dark cognac eyes watching her, she instantly flushed a fiery red, especially when he reached over and stroked the side of her colored cheek with long, lingering fingers.

His adroit digits felt slightly moist; her blush (and embarrassment) ripened when she thought of what the moistness was.

He spoke then, voice deep, silky and deliberate.

"Happy birthday, little one."

He traced her delicate jawline with a calloused thumb, and she unconsciously felt herself arching into his touch, almost like a pet desperate for its owner's physical affection.

"You- you know?" she whispered, as his thumb moved and brushed her moving lips.

He smiled and said nothing.

She pressed nearer to him. He, too, wore not a stitch of clothing, and it took every ounce of her willpower to stay focused on his angular, perfect features and not allow her eyes to stray any further below that—his gloriously naked masculine form was, after all, something that could be used as a weapon against her already crumbling composure. It was hard though, for her to ignore the flat, marble wall of sleek muscles against her own belly, as well as a particular hardness _there_…

"H-how did you know that today is my birthday?" Kyoko insisted.

He laughed silently, but drew her even closer, his bare arm curling around her small waist like a band of steel. The red that suffused her pale face burned as his muscled abdomen pressed hard against her soft, thin body, and as her small breasts crushed against his chest.

"When you were packing your things to move here with me," he answered gently, "I happened to see your passport then." There was a pause, and then his sculpted lips abruptly curled upwards, almost sardonically. "I take it you enjoyed my little gift?"

She inhaled bashfully and quickly looked away from knowing, gleaming obsidian eyes, feeling her pulse accelerate all over again, and her features heat up. If his attending to her just several minutes ago was supposed to be a birthday gift, then she had probably already received countless birthday gifts from him almost every day since the commencement of their relationship.

Their sexual life was one that Kyoko enjoyed—more than she should, as a matter of fact—tremendously, and that in itself was an understatement. The foreplay was never something that was rushed; he took it very seriously, pleasuring her unhurriedly with his experienced fingers and perfect lips (oh, how they were the death of her!) so as to make sure she was well lubricated before the main event. This usually resulted in several mind-blowing climaxes on her part, and they left her reeling and weak in his protective arms. Still woozy and her body uncharacteristically eager and pliant from the explosive feminine orgasms achieved by his skillful ministrations (and that was only supposed to _prep_ her for the highlight of the night), he would deem her ready and moist enough for him to fully claim her.

She supposed that one other reason he took extremely resolute precautions to make sure she was well-prepared for his entrance was his _size. _The male was large, and they both knew it. He could easily hurt her with the vastness of his girth, and she knew that he would never allow himself to do anything that might physically pain or injure her. On the contrary, the man's incredible sexual prowess in bed (which was something an awed Kyoko learnt to revere, despite knowing that it also came from years of experience, namely, not with her, which she refused to let it upset her. Her refusal, however, was not always very effective) engendered immense euphoria on her part, and his largeness only intensified the carnal pleasure, as he very easily accessed and tapped into the exact spots that made stars erupt in her eyes. She'd lost track of the number of times he had cleverly pushed her over the edge each night; _eight, nine, ten_…

If orgasms were supposed to be birthday gifts, then every day would seem to be her birthday. He was her drug, and she was growing rapidly intoxicated and addicted to him. He had ruined her. No other man could ever elicit such ecstasy within her as he did. She was drunk…

And the heady, invigorating sensation only escalated as his masculine hardness currently seared her nether region.

Kyoko reached down, and wrapped her little hands around his cock. Ren abruptly stilled, and his eyes seemed to darken, lashes casting shadows across his flawless cheekbones.

"I'm ready," she whispered, staring back into his cognac gaze.

She stroked him, her fingers curled around his pulsing girth. She was _hungry_; it was rare of her to take such initiative, but Kyoko was growing desperate as he made no move to mount her. She spread her quaking thighs slightly apart, and, still holding onto the erect size of his beautiful manhood with both her hands, she pressed it nearer to her eager entrance, her dark pubic curls moist—

His single large hand closed over both her skinny wrists, keeping them locked together in place.

She nearly choked, his first name spilling from her lips at what he was blatantly denying her. The female struggled with both her hands, but his singular grip was like steel. "_Ren_—"

"You're still sore from yesterday." It was not a question—it was very clearly a matter-of-fact statement on his part, and he said it quietly, rich voice husky.

"I'm _fine_—"

"No, you are not."

Kyoko was growing steadily frustrated. Of course he was right. He was always right. Last night he had taken her thrice, all in different places within the house—firstly on the kitchen counter (where he had carefully propped her diminutive body—she had been stark nude save for just an apron—onto its granite surface with her slender back against the wall, legs wound around his waist, and mounted her unapologetically), secondly in their bed where he had carried her exhausted body to after the first session, and lastly in the bathtub when they had been cleaning themselves up (or rather, he had been cleaning her up… at least, when they weren't too busy throughout the final romp).

It was only natural that she felt sore. The subsequent mornings after nights of such staggering physical passion often left her sore and exhausted, and throughout the rest of said day she would find herself _limping_ even, and because of that, a tired Kyoko would usually sleep in until the afternoon (Ren was long gone by then, having departed early in the morning), before finally getting up and about to attend to her daily duties. She still had her part-time job as a social worker to see to, after all, and she enjoyed it very much, even though it meant that her coworkers (not to mention the innocent young children she interacted with several times as was part of her work) would question her with embarrassing inquiries, such as why she was limping.

She couldn't exactly tell them that she was _sore_.

And right now, neither would she to Ren.

"_Please_," Kyoko forced out, her voice rising to an uncharacteristic whine. His hand had loosened enough above hers so that she let go of his erection and reached up to the rock hard wall of abdominal muscles above, her nails scratching at his perfect skin. She knew without looking that the muscled, sinuous curve of his bare back bore multiple pink scratches, which she had uncontrollably inflicted in the midst of the mind-blowing wanton passion last night, and she ignored the twinge of guilt she felt. "I'm really okay, Ren. I don't hurt at all—"

She let out a sharp gasp of shock as strong arms moved and scooped her from the bed up into mid-air against him. Her slender legs, weakened from the onslaught of orgasms just a couple of minutes ago, not to mention also from the vigor of last night, gave way helplessly, and she moaned lightly when she felt him easily lift them up with his arm (his other arm was wrapped securely around her tiny torso, holding her to him) and gently curl each leg one by one around his powerful waist.

And then in a single fluid motion, he had risen fully from the bed, carrying her with him, and her head fell against the warm, muscled hardness of his broad shoulder as he glided away. Wondering what was happening (her churning arousal was forgotten, at least for now), she asked hoarsely, "Where are we heading to?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't need to, for moments later she found themselves passing the open door into the luxurious bathroom. It was then when Kyoko detected a strange scent; a deliciously sweet scent it was, and she stiffened in his embrace and sniffed the air. Why did the bathroom smell so sweetly?

"What's that?" she asked, clearing her throat to try to erase the hoarseness in her voice. Her arms were around his neck. "It smells nice. Did you put candy in here or something?"

He laughed, and she shivered when she felt the deep, humored reverberations of his voice run through their entwined (not to mention naked) bodies.

Feeling miffed that he was laughing at her (he was always doing that!), she loosened her grasp around him and turned her copper head from where she had originally been facing the door of the bathroom to where the sweet smell was coming from.

Her hazel eyes widened in shock.

From within the large, oval-shaped beige marble bathtub was a dazzling pool of ivory white milk. It was beautiful and enchanting; it shimmered and seemed to flow out within the space like creamy white gossamer, silvery and lustrous, and to top it off, delicate scarlet rose petals were artfully scattered all around the pure white liquid, the dark red of the floral pattern a vivid, exotic contrast against the soft pearly sheen of the milk bathwater. The entire bath looked almost surreal.

It appeared just like an ethereal painting from a fairy tale; a stolen scene, almost.

She was stunned.

"The bath is probably no longer as warm as it was before," Ren murmured regretfully, his baritone voice husky in her ear. "But I do hope you might enjoy this all the same."

"_Enjoy_ this?" Kyoko repeated incredulously, whipping her head back so that she could face him properly. His obsidian eyes bored intently into her hazel ones. "Tsuruga-san, did _you _prepare this while I was asleep?"

He smiled, an eyebrow arching. "Yes."

She was so speechless, so giddy with joy, that for a moment, she couldn't seem to find the words to speak.

"Tsuruga-san, I _love_ this!" Kyoko squealed excitedly at last, her arms flying as she threw them enthusiastically around his slender neck once again. "It's so beautiful! This is the best birthday gift anyone has ever given me! Can we go in now? I've never had anything like this before! Thank you so much! I feel like a princess! I-I love you—"

She suddenly halted in her impassioned speech when she realized what she was saying.

There was a pause, and she realized that she was flushing again, her face tomato red. And then another thought struck her, bitter and melancholic as it was.

_I can't love him_.

Her lover seemed to sense her insecurity, one that she could not put further into words, for he said nothing to address what she had inadvertently uttered, but simply moved and gently lowered her little, naked frame into the bath, before following suit himself behind her, his motions leisurely graceful and with quiet purpose.

Kyoko inhaled shakily. Truthfully as she had said, this was the first time she had ever been able to bathe in a rose petal milk bath, and the lukewarm substance, akin to thick, heavy silk, lapped pleasurably at the sensitive pores of her skin, making her shudder with mild bliss as her body became submerged in the soothing milk. It was all so exciting—she had never been able to partake in any extravagant luxuries like this before. Breathlessly she peered at the dark crimson petals floating all around her like little rosy fingerprints, and she couldn't help but reach out and graze the soft petal surface with her milky-painted fingers.

"Tsuruga-san… how did you…?" Her voice was choked, no doubt from the overwhelming emotion wrecking her chest.

"It is not difficult to make this, my little princess," he answered candidly, his arm tightening lazily around her flat abdomen in response. She flushed hotly again at his wording, especially as she felt herself being pressed to his tall, panther-like frame behind her, the hard sleek muscles coiled against her slim back. She was glad at least that she was facing away from him; the last thing she needed was for him to see that her face was red again, though she had an annoyed feeling that he _knew_, even without looking.

Sometimes she had a disquieting feeling that he knew just about _everything_.

"Looking up the recipe online is not hard to do," he continued, humming contentedly against her disheveled hair. "A few cups of milk powder, Epsom salts, and so on… The ingredients are easily accessible to anyone."

Kyoko refused, however, to let him discredit himself.

"I think this is incredible, Tsuruga-san!" she said instantly, reaching to grasp his arm tightly. The petals drifted around the couple serenely. "_You're_ incredible. I don't think there's anything in the world you can't do."

There was a drawn-out pause.

"Rather," Ren said thoughtfully, his voice curiously unreadable, "There is nothing I won't do."

Kyoko blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I wonder," he responded sardonically, voice drawing out in a teasing lilt. She felt another surge of petulant annoyance at his enigmatic ways—why couldn't he just tell her what he was thinking?!

She peered inquisitively as his long fingers stirred softly through the milk bathwater in a slow arc across the front of her relaxed body, as if beckoning something to her. She straightened from where she had initially been resting against him, trying to make sense of what was going on. Before her very eyes, the petite female stared disbelievingly as a large, full, blood-red rose—rather than a mere petal this time—floated towards her across the glimmering ivory surface of the milk bath.

"It's beautiful," she whispered in awe, staring at the gorgeous scarlet folds of the rose as it drew nearer to the small curve of her breasts.

It seemed that today was one wonderful birthday surprise after another.

"Why don't you take a closer look?" Ren suggested gently, from behind her.

"What do you…" Not knowing what to say, she moved her milk-smeared fingers and lifted the rose up from the milk. It was surprisingly heavy, and she cradled the exotic heart-shaped crimson petals of the flower in her dripping palm carefully, its stem hanging from between her digits.

It was then that she noticed it.

Shaped in the form of a single (albeit rather large) drop of breathtaking morning dew, a dark red ruby glinted at her from where it was nestled amongst the rich curved petals of the rose.

She nearly dropped the rose. "_Ren_—_"_

"The Queen Rosa," he spoke quietly.

"W-What?"

"That is its name." He nodded his dark head gracefully at the innocent yet enticing teardrop-shaped ruby gleaming from the rose in her hand.

"Tsuruga-san, I can't."

"Today is your birthday, is it not?" His tone was calm, unmoved, and soft.

"Yes, it is," she said stubbornly. "And you've given me so many incredible things today that I will never forget. The milk bath, the roses, everything. And _you_—the fact that you are here for me … That alone remains to be the greatest birthday gift I have ever received. I am so happy, Tsuruga-san. This is more than enough. I can't accept this… The Queen Rosa, as you said. It's far too expensive and far too beautiful."

He tilted his head slightly, and she knew he was listening. His dark eyes had softened.

"One's birthday is a commemoration of the first day of one's life," he said softly. "Do you agree?"

Kyoko stared curiously at him, rose still in her hand. She was unsure of what he was getting at. "Y-Yes?"

"Then, by refusing my birthday gift to you, it is equivalent to saying that you do not wish to spend any days of your life with me."

Kyoko's jaw dropped, shocked. How on earth had Tsuruga Ren managed to twist his words like that, in order to make her feel as guilty as she did now? In her mind, she childishly cursed him—cursed the intelligent man that was an actor, clever in his words and clever in his portrayal to get what he wanted.

"That's not true, Tsuruga-san!" she burst out heatedly, her words falling out hastily into a babble. "You know that's not true! I _want_ to spend my life with you! In fact, I'm having the privilege of getting to spend my life with you right now, and I have never been happier throughout everything I've had! You're the best man I have ever met! If anything, I want to spend the rest of my life with you—"

Her own argument seemed to dumbfound her as she once again realized what she was saying. Her cheeks the color of a chili pepper, she quickly closed her mouth before she could say any more of the nonsense sprouting from her lips.

Nonsense that was a growing truth she could not ignore.

Why couldn't she ever just shut up? Spend the rest of her life with him?

She could never do that, not with the father of her future child. That was something she had vowed to herself a long time ago.

Kyoko was brought out of her reverie as his long, dexterous fingers abruptly laced through her own, cradling the beautiful rose together in their entwined hands. Silvery-white drops of milk dripped from their fingers.

His baritone voice was quiet and tender.

"Then the Queen Rosa is yours to keep."

* * *

The showbiz world was a mad world, Kyoko thought, wincing as the camera lights went off in a blinding flash from all around her. She wondered if her retinas were going to survive until the end of this event.

That wasn't to say that all aspects of the showbiz world were unpleasant. Prior to arriving at the event, she had gotten to do something she had always loved and wanted to do but had never had the chance (or finances) to: going through a makeover. Ren's stylist (and Kyoko's stylist now as well, she supposed, at least for today) was a woman who evidently knew what she was doing, and Kyoko would be lying if she said she wasn't satisfied with the outcome of the stylist's efficient work. However, she did cringe at the stylist's bluntness during the process, specifically on certain comments the latter had made about her "tiny bust" being too small for her to wear a gown that would be daring in that department. Hence Kyoko had gotten an alternate white pencil dress—under a bridal theme—that was long-sleeved with a modest round neck, and with the Queen Rosa safely fastened around her collarbone.

Modesty did not necessarily reduce a garment's attraction. Kyoko absolutely adored what she was donning, and as if to make up for the lack of boldness in her bust, the stylist had chosen a dress with an artistic diamond-shaped cut right at the small of her back, baring her naked skin underneath. She had a slight inkling, though, that Ren had been somewhat responsible for her otherwise conservative choice of wear, as he was not the sort of man who liked her to display too much skin, at least not to people that were not him. This could probably explain why his large hand was currently splayed protectively over the exposed skin of the small of her back, guiding her along the red carpet. The veil around her legs danced prettily as she walked.

Yashiro was right behind the couple, while numerous bodyguards surrounded them and escorted the pair along the extremely publicized and scrutinized path in the public eye—a path that was, aforementioned, the red carpet, something she had only ever witnessed on television, and had never imagined herself partaking in. Kyoko knew for a fact that Ren rarely hired bodyguards throughout his working activities, being an extremely capable combatant himself, and that the presence of said guards right now was actually called for her benefit. She was glad to know that her lover was adamant to keep her well-protected, for the onslaught of reporters swarming around them scared her slightly, to say the least.

Not to mention the questions being thrown at them.

"Ren, who is your date? Who have you brought with you tonight?"

"Is she a newbie in the showbiz?"

"Ren, what is your relationship with your date? Is she a new lover of yours?"

"Ren, what happened to your supposed relationship with Miss Momose? Have you broken up with Momose?"

"Ren, who is this date of yours? What happened to Momose? You two were supposed to come together, weren't you? Have you forgotten tonight is Dark Moon's night?"

Kyoko had to bite the inside of her cheek to suppress the dark wave of jealousy rising in her chest, and to maintain the nonchalant expression on her face, despite her sudden petulant urge to reach over and slap every one of the reporters, if only to shut them up. Ignoring what her feelings might possibly signify, she instead forced herself to smile elegantly at the press, and moved her body even closer beside Ren's tall figure, aware that everyone was watching. Everyone, which should include Momose herself from wherever she currently was, Kyoko thought pettily. (It was difficult for her to make out anyone, especially not with the bulk of her bodyguards surrounding her.)

Ren was not the only who could be territorial.

Yashiro, on the other hand, was reacting to the sea of questions being fired in rapid succession at the couple. Again and again he repeated to the persistent reporters, in a firm, stone-cold voice that shocked Kyoko (he was always such a genial person in private that seeing him professionally at work never failed to stun her) that Ren was not obligated to answer any questions for now. The reporters, unfortunately, weren't being very obedient in response to Yashiro, and the interfering queries only kept coming, though Yashiro's frightening glare towards the slightly cowed reporters did slow them down a little.

Ren was saying nothing in return to the questions, but simply smiled gently at everyone around him, eliciting much enchanted cries from the bystanders, or more specifically, the females amongst the bystanders. Clearly he was accustomed to the chaos in his surroundings. The sound of the camera shutters whirring and the blinding lights were overwhelming, and Kyoko was glad that her partner never removed his reassuring arm around her, and she had to fight back a flush as she felt his gloved thumb gently stroke the bare skin of her back even as they strode—unafraid, at least on the surface from her part—on along the red carpet.

Meanwhile, Kyoko herself had been briefed and advised by both Ren and Yashiro beforehand that she need not say anything to the press, no matter what they asked her. Her privacy was her own, and just because she was attending an extremely publicized event did not mean she had to disclose anything of her own personal life to the media, especially if she did not want to. It was a choice for her to make, and if she wanted to keep mum about her name, then she need not say a thing, and more importantly, she did not have to feel guilty about it.

She was glad for that, though she couldn't help but wonder how Ren intended to announce their relationship amidst the pandemonium enclosing them.

Before long, they had reached the other end of the red carpet, much to her invisible relief. The press gathered around here had lessened considerably, though she soon found herself facing another group of people that proved to be equally challenging for her, if not more.

Actresses. Actors. Models. Television personalities. All kinds of celebrities (some of which Kyoko recognized from the rare times she had watched TV) stood before her, and she suddenly felt very small, her stomach sinking under her cool facade. Tall and adorned in fine, expensive clothing, they cut impressive figures from where they stood in all corners of the foyer. While they, unlike the press, naturally did not pelt her with questions about her mysterious status or identity, the atmosphere was suffocating. Their gazes seemed to zoom in on her instantly, a skeptical query in their otherwise silent expressions, before they looked away and respectfully acknowledged Ren, either verbally or with wordless gestures.

"Tsuruga-san."

A new voice, feminine, spoke politely.

Kyoko swallowed soundlessly as she came face to face with a woman so ethereally beautiful she wondered if it was even possible.

She was tall, taller than Kyoko, the latter whom had always been petite. She was dressed in an hourglass black strapless evening gown with a plunging neckline (the exact kind of gown Kyoko herself had been unable to wear, due to her limited female assets) that delineated her perfect, model-like figure tightly as a second skin. Hair the silken color of gold gathered and curled down lavishly along the right side of her voluminous breasts, and ruby jewelry gleamed from her pretty ears and sensual neck. She approached them, black stilettos clicking on the ground, her footsteps confident, almost like a supermodel moving casually along the catwalk—in the same graceful way Ren always moved himself. She lifted a creamy, bare arm towards him, smiling.

The woman whom Kyoko had seen in pictures online just the day before had come to life.

Next to her was a tall man Kyoko did not recognize, though she could tell he was a respectable celebrity in his own right, judging by the several nods of greeting he was getting from the other public figures around him, to which he reciprocated affably. Dressed in a dark, expensive tuxedo, he looked handsome and distinguished, though Kyoko was certain that his looks did not come close to Ren's.

Ren spoke then, sensuous lips curling into a cordial, amiable smile at both the woman and man.

"Kijima-san. Momose-san."

Kyoko tensed in slight disappointment when she felt her lover withdraw his arm from around her small waist. Her disappointment, however, was immediately the least of her concern at what came next. She breathed in, her heart pounding rapidly, when Ren took Momose's outstretched hand, his long skilled fingers lifting her palm, and kissed the back of it, his lips gently brushing her knuckles.

It was then that a loud cheer seemed to rise in a deafening cry in Kyoko's ears, and she heard, after a few long seconds of confusion, the bystanders of the crowd along the red carpet chanting a few unmistakable words from all around her.

"_Golden Couple!"_

* * *

_:tbc:_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I love and adore everyone who reviewed and supported this story. I can't thank you enough, really. I probably don't even deserve any of you, being the slow updater I am. But I have been really busy lately, so it's not because I procrastinated. Not entirely, anyway.

I hope you enjoy, and please review if you liked/disliked it.

* * *

_:Chapter 6:_

The words were like a slap to Kyoko's face.

_Golden Couple._

The humiliation was terrible, and she suppressed the immediate urge to run and hide, especially from all the other celebrities watching them. Here she stood blatantly in sight as Ren's date for the night, and yet the crowd—how she loathed them suddenly!—held no qualms in expressing their desire for the coming together of Ren and Momose. She was no fool on what the words meant; she knew of the term that everyone had come up with to label the pairing of her boyfriend and his co-star, and it _hurt_. Kyoko's stomach clenched tightly beneath her impassive exterior (it was thank goodness her composure did not visibly fall apart), and she stole a quick glance towards Ren.

She was incredulous to see that he displayed no acknowledgement towards what the crowd had chanted—in fact, from the way he behaved, it was as if they had said nothing, even though the words were still echoing around the foyer like a persistent, morbid reminder of the fact that Kyoko did not belong here.

_Golden Couple._

Kyoko didn't know whether to be angry or relieved about her lover's lack of reaction. An irritated thought niggled at the back of her head, and she bit her lip.

Wasn't he going to correct the crowd; tell them that they were wrong? Was that not the whole point of her being here with him at the Star Awards?

Ren's dark head calmly rose and he released Momose's hand then (a good thing, since Kyoko nearly reached over on a whim to forcibly pry his hand off hers), and smiled candidly at the blonde female, pale lips curling upwards. "It seems everyone is rather excited tonight."

Kyoko's jaw nearly dropped.

That was it? That was to be his only acknowledgement of what the crazy crowd had screamed towards him and Momose? Was he _really_ not going to set them right? And why the hell, she wondered mutinously, was he so damn nonchalant about the whole thing?

It irked her far more than she had expected it to.

_Stop it,_ she told herself fervently. _Why do you care if he cares? This fragile thing with him that you call a relationship isn't going to last anyway. You know that._

The woman named Itsumi Momose smiled back at Ren, her large baby blue eyes twinkling beneath a row of dark lashes so perfect Kyoko was tempted to whip out a pair of tweezers and pluck them off. "It's always good that there is enthusiasm. Don't you agree?"

Her rich voice was like silk, womanly and soft.

It was then when Kyoko realised that she utterly detested this woman, even though she had barely known her for more than a few minutes. It was an irrational hatred, but logic was the last thing she expected from her emotions, including what she felt towards Ren.

Beside Momose, the distinguished-looking man named Kijima laughed, throwing his head back as if a joke had just gone off… a joke that Kyoko could not for the life of her see.

"Congratulations, both of you, on Dark Moon's success," he said genially, though she noticed that his gaze curiously drifted towards where she—the third wheel between the Golden Couple, evidently—stood. "I really must applaud you. I mean, I've never gotten this level of success in any of my films, but oh well, who am I to complain?"

"You jest," Ren responded courteously. "Still, I thank you."

Momose nodded warmly.

"Excuse me," a new, strained voice abruptly spoke. It was hard to hear, especially with all the noise from the other people—celebrity and press alike—crowding the foyer. Kyoko blinked as she took in the sight of a man walking towards them, dressed neatly in an expensive tuxedo. He appeared almost frail, she thought, with his slender stature, thin face and large brown eyes. Overlong bangs of blonde hair framed his soft cheeks.

"Ogata-san," Momose greeted him. She clearly recognised the man, and Kyoko watched as the buxom, blonde beauty bowed deeply in obvious respect towards the newcomer. "How wonderful to see you."

Ren, Yashiro (who was standing behind Ren and Kyoko, unspeaking), and Kijima, too, inclined their heads in polite greeting at the male.

It took Kyoko another second to fully recognise the newcomer herself. Hiroaki Ogata. The director of Dark Moon, she thought.

Prior to the Star Awards, Ren and Yashiro had showed her photographs and pictures of a few various celebrities she might likely come across with; most of them were closely associated to Dark Moon. Ren had explained in brief detail their names, backgrounds, and personalities, all of which he very kindly gave amazing credit for. Thanks to his given information, she was more prepared (or as prepared as she would ever be) to face Ren's fellow stars, knowing she would be able to at least recognize some of them, and have a brief understanding about their roles in the entertainment industry, or more specifically, in Ren's career.

Kyoko knew that Ren had informed her some of the details beforehand in order to make her feel less alienated and daunted by the foreign atmosphere (in her perspective, anyway) of the Star Awards, and she greatly appreciated his efforts. She had forced herself to maintain a neutral expression when he described Momose, even though she'd already read up about the actress online. Only she didn't let him know that, because…

He would certainly be curious enough to ask why, and the last thing she wanted to let him know was about her insecurities regarding the glamorous actress.

His own narration about Momose had been concise and simple:

"A full-time actress who has commendable standing in the industry. She is my co-star in Dark Moon, and plays Mizuki, the female lead. She is a very friendly person, so there's no need to worry."

And then Ren had showed Kyoko a photograph of Momose. She had thanked the stars that it hadn't been a racy photo (from what she had privately searched online, Momose Itsumi was a lover of raunchy, sexual photo shoots, where she was often decked in revealing lingerie before the cameras, or sometimes, in nothing at all), but a rather demure one of her.

Demure, but still absolutely gorgeous as hell.

She was also glad Ren hadn't showed her the intimate photo shoot he had shared with Momose, where they had _both_ been almost naked. Not that he would, of course, for Ren definitely had more tact than that.

He had, naturally, introduced her to Ogata's profile as well beforehand, and it was thanks to that she recognised the director now.

Silently, she stood beside her lover, watching as the trio—Kijima, Momose, and Ren—exchanged pleasantries with Ogata. She was slightly taken aback when Ren didn't introduce her (for goodness' sake, she was his date!), and also somewhat miffed. He merely conversed with the rest, not even once addressing Kyoko, and for a split second Kijima and Momose glanced at her, as if curious themselves on why Ren wasn't introducing his date.

"It's so amazing to see all of you," Ogata was saying. He looked, Kyoko thought, almost like a mouse: timid and meek. It was surprising, especially for someone who happened to be a director, a status that demanded much authority. "I hope you all are doing fine."

"Oh, we're doing more than fine. It's thanks to you that Dark Moon turned out so well," Momose gushed, batting long false lashes.

"I'm definitely going to be the first to audition for your next project, Ogata-san," Kijima added. "Your work is incredible."

Ogata flushed. "Thank you for your compliment. It would be an honor, Kijima-san."

Kyoko was positive that she probably stuck out like a sore thumb at the moment. As the conversation delved on, the actors and director began to discuss about the nominated awards this year, and she was at an utter loss regarding the terminology they were using. The fact that she didn't belong to this business had never made her feel more chagrined as it did now. She was tempted, on a petulant whim, to hastily retreat and hide herself back into the limousine she had arrived here in (not that she could, since the limo was gone, but still).

"By the way, Tsuruga-san, aren't you going to, um, introduce to us your date?"

She stiffened in surprise; Ogata, who had spoken, was smiling shyly at her. Kijima and Momose were looking fully at her as well, especially now that they were given the excuse to.

She smiled back, not knowing what to say, and the pressure of their combined scrutiny made her increasingly nervous.

"A million apologies, Ogata-san. Ren won't be divulging any information about his date for now." A new voice had uttered, and Kyoko was relieved to note that it was Yashiro. The manager was astonishingly good at his job—he faded out of attention when Ren's powerful, star-like presence commanded the place, but just as quickly loomed back into authority the moment unwanted queries were raised towards Ren, at least in Yashiro's books.

Meanwhile, the bulk of bodyguards assigned to Kyoko had left once they reached the red carpet, leaving only a single one behind, and he stood, stoic and soundless, right behind Kyoko and beside Yashiro.

"I… Yes, I understand," Ogata said, eyes widening. He glanced at Ren, whose features were inscrutable. "Speaking of which, may I borrow a minute of your time, along with Momose-san? We need to take a picture with the rest of the Dark Moon cast."

Ren smiled. "Of course." He turned, and Kyoko's heart leapt abruptly in her chest as his large, white-gloved hand reached over and lifted her small, thin one, their fingers entwining. His dark eyes raked her pale face intently. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be okay," Kyoko said hastily, uncomfortably aware that everyone—the media and Ren's fellow celebrities—were probably watching. "You go on. Don't worry about me."

He smiled at her, and then gently let go of her hand. The cold air that greeted her bare skin stunned her; she hadn't expected to miss his warmth, as fleeting as it had been. The piercing iciness in her flesh seemed to intensify when he moved away and joined Momose. The both of them were tall and willowy, and she couldn't deny that they were a gorgeous couple together. Her heart lurched as the blonde slinked her arm around his, slender manicured fingers grasping his offered elbow.

The two of them glided off side by side, their footfalls graceful and elegant, as Ogata led them into a nearby crowd, filled with flashing lights. Kyoko widened her eyes when she realised that there was a large poster pasted on a massive stretch of wall not far from her (she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it earlier), and reporters were circling around it like hawks, cameras at the ready. The poster depicted the scene of Ren and Momose together, their faces—romantically illuminated by the vibrant city lights in the background of the picture—close and intimate.

She swallowed. It was the promotional picture for Dark Moon. And gathered in a line right in front of the picture on a scarlet-carpeted platform posed several unfamiliar celebrities, clad in shimmering evening wear for the cameras; most likely they were other cast members of the drama, she thought.

Kyoko continued watching, stomach twisting uneasily, as Ren and Momose—the main stars of Dark Moon—arrived to join them, and as the volume of the spectators' noise went ballistic in response.

"Hey, Miss."

It took her a few seconds to realise someone was addressing her, and she turned in surprise, nearly wobbling on her platform wedges (Ren had been mysteriously firm when discussing with his stylist that Kyoko did not wear stilettos, or any other precarious, uncomfortable design of high heels), before taking in the unexpected sight of Kijima grinning at her. He stood casually, hands tucked in the pockets of his tux.

"Kijima-san." Yashiro, who had not left Kyoko's side (including the lone bodyguard), bent his head respecfully at the actor. "I—"

"Don't worry," Kijima waved his hand jovially, still grinning at Kyoko. "I won't be asking any unwanted questions about this enigmatic little lady here, if that's what you're concerned about. Still, it's alright if I chat with her, isn't it?"

Yashiro looked forced between reluctance and amusement. "Yes."

Kyoko smiled weakly back at Kijima. It appeared that she was not the only one who had been momentarily abandoned by their date, and she didn't know whether to feel relieved or disconcerted at that. "Hello. Nice to meet you."

"Very nice to meet you, too," he countered frankly, bowing. "_Very _nice. Nothing pleases me more than to meet a beautiful lady."

Kyoko fought a flush. Was he flirting with her? "I… I… Thank you?"

"I'm very curious," Kijima continued, watching her. She stiffened at his open appraisal. "Very curious, indeed."

"About?" she asked demurely, keeping her tone neutral.

He shrugged. "Many things, really. You see, I've been in the business for a very long time, and I know a lot of contacts. The fact that I don't recognise you can mean either..." He raised a finger. "First possibility: you're a newbie. That's entirely plausible, because there are always newcomers in this line of work, though how you managed to get Japan's biggest star as your date tonight is definitely puzzling. I won't eliminate the fact that you might be his label-mate. That could explain how you got to know him, but even that is a slim possibility, for Ren has many new labelmates whom he doesn't have the time to mingle with. Second possibility…" He lowered his finger, and smiled again at her. "Well. This one should be simple. You don't belong to this business."

Kyoko kept her features expressionless. "I see."

"That's an even slimmer possibility, of course," Kijima admitted pensively. "How on earth could a civilian meet Tsuruga Ren?"

"How on earth, indeed?" Kyoko said softly. The question seemed to startle even herself.

Of course she knew how. She had met him through Sho, during the singer's party months ago—but even then Kijima's question lingered in her mind. Something was niggling at the back of her head, but she wasn't sure what. A sense of unease grew within her.

"You seem confused," Kijima said. "Are you alright, Miss?"

Kyoko straightened. She realised with a jolt that Yashiro and Kijima were both looking at her in a mix of curiosity and concern.

"I'm fine," she said hastily. Her hand reached up to lightly grasp the Queen Rosa around her small neck, more out of habit than anything else.

There was a pause, and then Kijima spoke again.

"May I give you some advice?" he asked abruptly.

She looked at him bemusedly. "Yes."

"I don't know what your relationship is with Ren, and honestly speaking, it's none of my business, as Yashiro here has made it clear," he stated. "But let's say, perhaps, that you are Ren's newest lover. Shall we assume that?"

Her fingers tightened on the large, beautiful red ruby resting against her collarbone. "Yes?"

"I have known Ren for many years, more than most people. I see him in a slightly different view from what others perceive of him," Kijima answered bluntly. "We presume you are his lover. If so, I advise that you had better hope, for your own sake, that you end up like all his previous lovers."

"And how did they end up?" Kyoko inquired quietly.

Yashiro cut in. "Kijima-san—"

"They ended up abandoned," Kijima said, his eyes solemn and sombre. "But it is always better to be abandoned than to be loved by Tsuruga Ren, my dear lady."

Kyoko couldn't deny the dark curiosity sprouting in the back of her throat. "How is that…? I-I don't understand what you are saying, Kijima-san."

Yashiro inhaled. "Please stop with all this nonsense, Kijima-san."

"Ren may be the kindest gentleman you have met," the actor went on, ignoring the manager. "But unfortunately, he is the kindest when he does not care. Likewise, when he cares, that kindness will disappear. The gentleman changes and becomes a hunter. I have seen that from my own personal experience, when it came to certain business ventures we explored together."

Kyoko stared at him. "I still don't—"

"I am talking about a hunter," Kijima said. "Hunters prey, correct? This is no exception for Ren. The people in his life have never been his prey as far as I can tell, because he has simply never cared before. So do tell me, Miss…" He leaned forward, head cocked questioningly.

"Are you his prey, or will you be abandoned?"

* * *

Kyoko stared at her reflection in the crystal mirror. Large hazel eyes looked right back at her, and she was slightly relieved to note there was no tell-tale weariness in her features. Her stylist had done a pretty good job dolling her up, she had to admit, taking in her glossy pink lips, the silvery eyeliner coating the brim of her full lashes, and the fancy layer of foundation adorning her fair complexion. The white rose tucked prettily in the side of her chignon pleased her; nothing made her happier than seeing the floral touch to her hairstyle.

It was about the only thing that made her happy tonight, really.

She sighed, dropping her gaze back to the marble basin. She was currently inside the ladies' washroom, and it was ridiculous, honestly, that this tiny room packed with the flushing cubicles brought her more solace and relief than any other area within the grand, air-conditioned lounge outside.

It wasn't even the press that was upsetting her. Most of them had vanished by the time she, along with Ren and Yashiro, had ventured from the sheltered foyer and entered through the main doors to an enclosed lounge inside. The place reminded her of a typical reception lounge in a glamorous five-star hotel, only far more spacious; opulent chandeliers loomed above them in a haunting array of amber lights, and the floor was carpeted in lush, rich colors. Occasionally a waiter would approach them and politely offer them wine on his tray, but Ren refused to let Kyoko drink any alcohol, ordering warm water for her instead.

She had looked around, sipping the water, only to notice that Kijima and Momose had vanished—she had no idea where they might have gone in this enormous, seemingly endless place, with its winding, lengthy corridors. Just earlier Kijima had shortly excused himself after finishing his cryptic speech to a stunned Kyoko, mere minutes before Ren had returned to her side.

Kyoko had chosen to keep mum about her newfound knowledge (she wasn't even sure what she had learnt from Kijima, actually) to Ren, although she had a feeling that Yashiro, who had been present the whole time Kijima had spoken to her, might inform Ren about it later.

She didn't know what Kijima had been trying to convey to her, and she didn't have the time to ponder about it. Next thing she knew, Ren was guiding her around the lounge (Yashiro had headed off to speak to the administration on some unknown matters), and she was busy trying to catch her breath as he met and conversed with other celebrities passing their way.

If Kyoko thought Momose had been the worst, then she was wrong.

While Ren had indeed introduced her to the names and backgrounds of several public figures before the Star Awards commenced, those names had mostly consisted of the cast belonging to Dark Moon. She knew that his social circle in this business was vast, and therefore it was near impossible for him to let her know beforehand the identities of everyone else he knew, but she was still dismayed to realise she recognized practically no one since they had entered the lounge.

And why on earth were so many of his acquaintances women?!

Kyoko wasn't a fool. Some of the gorgeous, tall females (it wasn't hard for her to see that they were fashion models slash actresses) that had approached him were definitely his exes, if the casually intimate manner they had greeted him with was anything to go by. Any uncertainties she had about this possibility were sealed when one of them, the latest in the line of women he had exchanged light pleasantries with, had stated, rather matter-of-factly, "I see you've finally moved on already, Ren, darling," before casting a coy, meaningful look at Kyoko.

Ren had simply smiled wordlessly in reply.

And to add insult to injury, Ren had not introduced her—had, in fact, said nothing about Kyoko throughout the whole time they stepped into the lounge. Although his arm remained firmly enclosed around her waist like a reassuring band of steel for the past hour, he made no verbal notion to unveil her secret identity before the other celebrities. Some of the women chatting with him had even glanced at Kyoko pointedly, as if awaiting an introduction, but he paid them no heed.

At this point, Kyoko wasn't sure anymore if he actually intended to announce the nature of their relationship. She wouldn't be surprised though, at the rate things were going, if they ended the night of the awards show with her secret identity still intact.

In any case, that would, after all, still prove beneficial for her… right?

"Shouldn't you be with the Dark Moon cast?" she whispered to him instead, attempting to distract herself from her inner turmoil once they were out of earshot from the models. She lowered the glass of water down onto a nearby tray. "I don't see Momose-san anywhere. Maybe you should find her—"

Ren looked amusedly at her, perfect lips rising. "It looks like someone is eager to get rid of me today."

Kyoko's throat went dry. "Of course not!" she exclaimed in a hushed tone. "I would never think that."

"Oh?" Ren murmured thoughtfully. "I should hope you are being honest."

"I _am_ honest," Kyoko snapped, with more force than she had intended. Her pulse raced.

_Unlike you. You're the one who said you would announce our relationship here. So why, Tsuruga-san, why…_

_Why are you ignoring me?_

His dark eyes were unfathomable as he gazed at her then. "Then pray enlighten me," he said quietly, "as to what Kijima-san spoke to you about earlier?"

Kyoko stared in shock. Ren had been busy at that time, being held up at the impromptu Dark Moon photo shoot with the rest of the acting cast. There was little chance he could have paid attention to her, not with the mad onslaught of cameras going off and the mass of reporters around him. It seemed impossible. She knew for a fact that Yashiro hadn't told Ren about it yet—she had been next to the both of them ever since Kijima's cryptic word of warning, and Yashiro had not brought it up.

Which could only mean one thing: Ren had indeed noticed, as improbable as the circumstances had seemed.

Tsuruga Ren was far sharper than she had expected him to be.

The word _hunter_ suddenly flashed across her mind, and she squashed the ridiculousness of it quickly before it surfaced in her demeanor.

"It was nothing," Kyoko said rapidly. "He was just being friendly."

His shrewd cognac eyes silently raked her face.

"I mean," Kyoko stammered uncomfortably, "He really didn't say anything much. He was very nice. He was just saying hi. He… I… "

It was evident Ren didn't believe her, if his arched brows were any indication.

Not knowing what else to say, she had fearfully decided to retreat, not just from him but also from _everything_; including the pent-up pressure welling up in her chest from being in the constant company of the other celebrities lingering at the lounge, and had then given the most common of excuses: the washroom.

And so here she stood, staring at the mirror, wondering what to do next. Her fingers stirred and touched the Queen Rosa around her neck, seeking comfort from it.

She couldn't wait for the night to end already.

One of the cubicle doors behind her abruptly opened, and a woman appeared, tucking an expensive leather clutch beneath her arm, and Kyoko froze as she saw who it was.

Mimori Nanokura.

Also known as the woman who had ruined her; the same woman whom she had stumbled across locking lips with Sho that fateful day months ago, and who had shattered Kyoko's romantic naivety towards men in general. This woman, the third party with an unfaithful Sho, had haunted her dreams for countless nights ever since—the nightmares had only ceased recently after meeting Ren.

This woman was standing right next to her right now. Only this wasn't a dream.

This was very real.

Of course Mimori would be here. While the Star Awards was an event that celebrated entertainers of the filming industry, Mimori was a model who often acted in Sho's music videos, and in occasional commercials. While she was definitely not here because she was nominated for any awards, anyone who delved in acting (be it of any extent) was bound to be invited here. Even Kanae had been invited; she had declined merely because she wanted to spend more time with her baby.

_Had Mimori brought Sho as her date?_

Kyoko dismissed the possibility quickly. This was unlikely—Sho hated Ren, and an event that solely celebrated his number one rival's specific profession in the showbiz would annoy him to no end.

She knew her childhood friend well.

"Hey, you."

Kyoko jerked in horror. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she had forgotten to hide her face from Mimori; the girl, who abhorred her as much as Kyoko abhorred Sho, was bound to recognise her...

"You kinda look like someone I know." Mimori's deeply mascaraed eyes were narrowed. She was wearing a tiny latex dress so revealing that Kyoko could see the darker shade of her (bra-less) nipples beneath the light see-through beige material. "You won't believe how much you resemble her."

Kyoko blinked, feeling relief course through her veins.

She made a mental note to privately thank her incredible stylist later on. Her makeover had truly done wonders transforming her.

"If she was actually pretty, I mean," Mimori added, not very nicely. Kyoko wasn't sure whether to feel insulted or flattered.

"Really?" She fought to keep her voice politely interested. "Is she your friend?"

Mimori snorted. She had gone over and was lathering soap on her hands by the basin. "Hardly. She was my boyfriend's ex. Maybe you know him. Fuwa Sho." There was audible pride in her voice.

"Oh. Yes, I know him." Kyoko didn't know why she wasn't dashing out of the washroom first chance she got—something was pressing the back of her skull, urging her to stay. She toyed instead with the handle of the tap, pretending she was busy with the gush of water.

"He's the biggest rock star in the industry right now," Mimori bragged.

_He's the biggest dick in the world, that's what._

"Is he your date tonight?" Kyoko said cautiously, her heart pounding. "I didn't see him."

Mimori shook her head, the arrogance in her face—heavily coated with make-up and black lipstick—fading to be replaced by annoyance. "No. That asshole chose not to come. He doesn't like film award shows."

Kyoko released a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Who are you, anyway?" Mimori wanted to know, after a moment's pause. "You're with Tsuruga Ren, right? The press nearly went bonkers when you two arrived just now. Are you his newest girlfriend?"

"Um," Kyoko said. "Actually—"

"If you are," Mimose said, "Then you're the opposite."

She was confused. "What do you mean?"

Mimori rinsed her hands, black nails glinting. "I mean that I'm _your_ boyfriend's ex."

Cold ice seemed to flood Kyoko's lungs.

_Mimori had dated Ren before?_

The other woman grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser. "You know, I never thought I'd admit this, but if I saw my boyfriend's ex again, there's something I might want to tell her. "

It took Kyoko several seconds to gather the energy to speak again. "And what is that?"

Mimori shook her head, tossed the used paper towel into a bin, and picked up her leather clutch. "It's personal."

And then she had exited the washroom, and was gone.

* * *

Kyoko straightened from where she was seated, and applauded again for what seemed to be the nth time as another actress claimed an award. Along with what felt like hundreds of film stars in the cinematic auditorium, she had been assigned one of the countless rows of plush crimson seats not far from where the stage was, and right beside Ren. She still couldn't believe that she was currently next to her lover in one of the most surreal scenarios possible: the gathering point of the rich and famous.

She also could not believe, for less happier reasons this time, that she was seated next to Momose as well, and that Kijima was beside Momose on the other side. The blonde beauty had said nothing to her throughout the entire presentation, even when Kyoko had whispered a meek hello upon arriving in her seat. Kijima, too, was, for some reason, pretending she didn't exist.

It seemed they had fully picked up the fact that Ren didn't seem interested to introduce his date, and if that was the case, then she wasn't really anyone worthy of their attention, either. They had greeted Ren warmly again in the auditorium when they had gotten to their seating, but this time they barely looked Kyoko's way. Gone was the curiosity in their expressions—she was about as substantial as air to them now. Even the media seemed to have lost their interest; the cameramen and reporters positioned around the sides of the theater appeared more focused on capturing Ren, Momose and Kijima… at least, for the stars around her immediate vicinity from what she could see.

The wave of exhaustion had caught her off-guard. Faint dizziness trickled in the edges of her vision, and she had rested her head against the back of the comfortable red cinema seat, trying not to doze off as she felt Ren's adroit gloved fingers gently stroke the small veins beneath her knuckles from where their hands were discreetly entwined underneath the thick lacy veil of the lower half of her white dress, hidden out of sight. The host's microphone-enhanced voice, which had been droning on in the auditorium for the past few hours, was not helping her sudden fatigue.

Her tiredness, however, was put instantly on hold when the host had, in the next moment, proudly proclaimed Ren's name for the Best Actor Award for Dark Moon. The tremendous applause that thundered across the auditorium filled her ears like a tidal wave, and she had gotten to her feet at once, drowsiness forgotten, cheering along with the rest of the occupants as Ren rose gracefully from his seat. No one looked surprised he had won—he had easily beaten out three other male candidates for the award, one of whom had been Kijima himself for another drama the latter had acted in—and if anything, they appeared delighted for him.

The gossamer white of his Armani suit was a stark, regal contrast against the dark scarlet of the seating in the cinematic theater as he moved fluidly past the rows of fervently clapping celebrities (all of them had risen to their feet as well) towards the stage, dark eyes flashing. Even then Kyoko found it difficult not to admire his long, sinuous legs while he glided languidly up the carpeted steps of the stage. The awaiting host passed the golden statuette—Kyoko was not unfamiliar with it, for she had seen similar statuettes back in his home, gathered from all the awards he had won prior—to the male.

Ren smiled warmly at the audience, who were still clapping vigorously. His obsidian eyes gleamed.

"Excuse me," a familiar voice said acidly beside Kyoko, and she turned to meet cold sapphire-blue eyes, framed by long, pretty sooty lashes.

"S-Sorry?" Kyoko said, bewildered, her hands still clapping mechanically. What did the other woman want?

Momose's baby blues flickered downwards, and Kyoko followed the direction of her scrutiny.

Her platform wedges were pressed atop the silky black train of Momose's lavish evening gown from where she was standing.

"Oh my god," Kyoko cried at once, taking a few steps back so that her shoes released their hold on the gorgeous silk. "I'm so sorry."

"I do hope," Momose said softly, her tone cool amidst the splattering of applause, "that you know this gown is not something you can afford to pay damages for."

"I-I'm really sorry," Kyoko said again, face flushing.

"The same way, perhaps," Momose drawled, her feminine, honeyed voice dropping even lower in volume, "that you cannot afford the dress you are currently wearing. It must be nice to receive charities from the wealthy, isn't it?"

The words were like a slap to her face. She was so stunned that she was rendered momentarily speechless.

And the main reason was because Momose was absolutely right.

It took the shocked and utterly mortified woman a few seconds to realise Ren had begun speaking into the microphone, his rich, deep baritone quietly stirring the air. The applause had reluctantly died down, and everyone was beaming expectantly at the male, awaiting his speech. Camera bulbs went off and illuminated the stage in fleeting glows.

"Dark Moon is, as many know, the first romantic project I have ever undertaken." Ren's perfect lips curved graciously. "Its romantic elements, I must admit, posed as a challenge personally in the beginning during filming. I am very fortunate; my co-stars were extremely kind and accommodating despite my inexperience in acting out that genre."

Momose, Kyoko noticed through a daze, was no longer looking at Kyoko and was instead smiling in Ren's direction from beside her.

"There are many people whom I owe my gratitude to for overcoming that inexperience." Ren's smoky eyes seemed to become darker. "My beautiful main co-star, the esteemed Miss Momose—" Applause broke out again, and the blonde beauty gave an artfully bashful smile as everyone's attention—and the cameras—swiveled towards her. She was truly beautiful, Kyoko thought dully, taking in the woman's shiny gold hair and delicate rosebud mouth. "…Ogata-san, our kind, patient, and very talented director, and of course, every other member of the diligent team behind Dark Moon. My manager, Yashiro, who is unfortunately absent from the theater at the moment, is another person whom I am deeply indebted to. And last but not least, I cannot forget the biggest driving force behind my sudden familiarity with the romantic genre—as is prevalent in Dark Moon—whom I have brought as my date tonight." His soft voice grew silkier, and gentler. "She is my heart. We are, in fact, expecting our first child together."

The entire theater froze.

Kyoko froze.

The Queen Rosa seemed to, in that stilled heartbeat, burn into her skin like scarlet fire.

* * *

_:tbc:_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** The sheer power of everyone's kind words made me update a lot faster than I planned due to my busy life. You guys are so powerful when it comes to triggering my muse! Anyway, the Star Awards Arc is ending, and it's time to move on! In the meantime, do give me (constructive!) feedback on my English/grammar/writing as you see fit.

This chapter starts off with a flashback (again), so it's seemingly disconnected from the previous one, but it will come back to the present as you read on. I'd like to add that I don't believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in fascination (and maybe some attraction) at first sight. Please also note that this is an AU, if you haven't figured it out by now.

I hope you enjoy.

* * *

_:Chapter 7:_

He would never forget the day he first met her.

It had been an interesting day, especially amidst the dull repetition of his busy filming schedules. While it was true that he had taken up various projects throughout his lengthy career, be it dramas and movies of criminal, psychological thriller, legal, medical, or comedic genres, he had acted in so many of them that it was now second nature for him to assume his roles. He enjoyed what he did to a certain extent, and took his projects seriously, but the very nature of his profession no longer elicited any surprise or intrigue in him. It was probably the downside to becoming a veteran actor, for he always knew what to expect whenever the cameras rolled, and the entertainment he derived from his hectic, monotonous life had thus dwindled rapidly. There was simply nothing spontaneous anymore in his line of work.

And then one day, he had been, after what felt like months of disinterest and boredom, intrigued and entertained both at once.

It had all started innocently enough, when he had been undertaking one of his simpler projects: filming a commercial which promoted a certain brand of soda. The set had taken place in a large park somewhere in Tokyo, as its excessive greenery, the producers had said, would prove to appear as an eye-catching, quaint background against the refreshing soda drink they were advertising. The crew had booked the entire park where the filming would occur—the session would, after all, probably last the whole afternoon before being wrapped up.

Until, that is, an unexpected situation arose.

"Okay, so this might be a bit annoying," Yashiro said, looking up from where he currently stood opposite Ren beneath the shade of the umbrella. The sun was shining brightly on them, and the crew had escorted Ren to take a short break by a stone table located within the park, where a massive red-and-yellow umbrella kept the occupants under its soothing shade. "But Fuwa Sho's management and I came to an agreement and they booked the other side of the park. He has to film part of his music video here. I'm sorry I didn't notify you sooner, but our own schedule is tight and we can't afford to delay shooting as it is. We'll still be continuing on."

Ren shrugged carelessly. His stylist was currently making the final adjustments to his silky dark hair, and he made sure not to move his head as he answered Yashiro. "This park is massive. He can stay at one end of it, as you said, and we will stay where we are, on the other end."

"Well, that's the plan," Yashiro said hesitantly, looking back down on his phone. "But are you sure you're okay with it?"

Ren's dark brows lifted. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He could, though, understand his manager's concern. Not too long ago, shortly after Fuwa's explosive music debut on the billboard charts, the singer had issued a challenge to Ren, stating that he would surpass the latter in both status and popularity one day. Ren had been amused about it; the singer was, for one, not even pursuing the same career path as him. The filming and musical industries were two very different things—shouldn't Fuwa be challenging a veteran musician instead of an actor? For another, he found it funny that the other male felt threatened enough by his presence to send forth that childish warning. Doing such a thing only displayed Fuwa's lack of maturity, and Ren wondered how the singer's fans had taken their idol's egoistical and vain behavior. He supposed he could slightly understand why Fuwa had felt threatened; a recent popularity poll had indicated Ren as the first in lead, while Fuwa had been fourth.

Still, the singer had proven himself so insecure and bratty that Ren had privately chuckled at his challenge. He had wisely chosen, however, to ignore Fuwa, and had therefore not even publicly acknowledged it (he had feigned polite ignorance of the matter when asked about it during interviews). The man's challenge was most definitely not something that kept him awake at night (laughably not), for he had far more pressing concerns in his life than a childish, spoiled rock-star.

At least, that was the case then.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Yashiro said carefully. "Fuwa's not happy though, but his management is pleading with him to cooperate. He's on a tight schedule too, apparently."

"Ah, I see," Ren responded disinterestedly. His stylist was finally done with his hair, and he glanced up from where he was seated to the director. "Shall we begin?"

An hour or so later the team announced a break for lunch. Ren, who had never possessed a hearty appetite, had simply consumed a sandwich before stating that he would take a walk. Yashiro had not been happy, but he knew all too well of Ren's stubbornness when it came to meals, and had resignedly chosen not to argue when the actor refused to eat anything further than a sandwich. The culinary delights offered had been plentiful: club sandwiches, mashed potatoes, cold cuts, canapès, and salad. A pity, Yashiro thought, that it would be wasted on Ren, though the hungry crew members were more than delighted at Ren's generous offer to let them have his share. He mentally admitted, however, that the scarce amount of sustenance in Ren's diet never adversely affected the actor's health or his efficiency, or his muscled build and size.

Life was unfair in some ways, the manager lamented inwardly.

He didn't say any of it out loud, and simply waved as Ren left the lunch table, wearing a dark, hooded, sleeveless jacket and long, tight-fitting jeans, along with a black cap and sunglasses, and headed off for his walk within the large, beautiful park.

The weather was as sunny as ever, and Ren blinked long sooty lashes, taking in the radiance of the golden rays all around him. He was glad that it was relatively quiet, save for the sounds of grass crunching beneath his boots and the birds chirping in the far distance. While he did not mind human company, and he certainly appeared not to, he was, contrary to popular belief, more solitary by nature. Despite his unwaveringly pleasant and good-natured demeanor with those around him, be it whether they were his co-stars, filming troop, fans, or lovers, there were days where he desired some time alone. Attention was necessary for his acting career to blossom, and he acknowledged that, but that did not mean he relished it.

There were some days where he wished—everyone would just _disappear_—

A sudden movement caught his eye, and he turned to see a girl speeding past him, clutching something in her hand. Her short bronze locks whipped the air as she ran hurriedly down the moss-covered path. It was then when her foot inadvertently caught onto a twig sticking out between the cracks of the pavement, and she gasped at the unexpected obstacle, leg tumbling. She fell. The object in her hand skidded out of her grasp, rolling onto grass. It took Ren a second to realise that it was a metallic can of coffee.

Unfortunately for the girl, her bare knee—she was wearing denim shorts—landed hard on the rocky pavement instead of the soft grass, and when she shakily lifted it again moments later, bloodied abrasions had appeared on her pale skin.

Ren moved quickly to the girl's aid, offering a hand to help her up.

"Are you alright?" he inquired concernedly, cognac eyes—concealed beneath his shades—scanning the rest of her body even as he spoke. From what he could see, only her knee was injured.

There was a panicked look on the girl's face, her large eyes wide and her parted lips pink and soft. She seemed about in her early twenties, and was dressed rather simplistically, in a large tee and shorts. She wasn't what Ren would have called beautiful, but there was still somehow a curiously magnetic quality to her delicate, make-up free features, only he couldn't identify what that was yet.

"The—the…" Her voice, high-pitched and feminine, sounded choked. She ignored his offered hand, and instead looked around desperately, her body still crouched on the ground.

"Yes?" Ren said politely, though inwardly he was concerned. Was the girl in so much pain she couldn't speak? Granted, her knee had only been scraped, but he couldn't be completely certain. He was used to getting mild injuries himself, and was thus familiar with how to handle such wounds—the vigor of his profession occasionally resulted in them, as he frequently engaged in grueling training, and did all the acrobatic stunts in his action films by himself. While those wounds rarely affected him as he had long learned to conquer most pain, he could not say the same for the petite female before him.

"The _can_," she finally forced out. "The drink. Where is it?"

Ren blinked, but other than that he remained unreadable. He rose, obsidian eyes flickering to his right, and spotted the metallic glint of the abandoned can of coffee lying on a thick patch of grass not far from them. Wordlessly he moved, picked up the unopened can with agile fingers, and walked back to the girl.

Her eyes brightened in visible relief upon seeing it, and she immediately stretched out her hand, only to gape in surprise when he held it out of her reach.

"Shouldn't you," he remarked languidly, glancing briefly down at the can, which dangled loosely from his long, dexterous fingers, "be more worried about your knee?"

She glared at him. "Pass me that can!"

Ren arched an eybrow. What was so important about a drink that this girl utterly disregarded her own physical welfare for it?

"It's Sho-chan's!" she snapped angrily, as if sensing his silent query. "I bought it for him! Now give it back!"

Understanding abruptly clicked at the back of his astute mind.

"You're part of Fuwa Sho's crew, yes?" he murmured.

He supposed he ought to have expected bumping into someone who belonged to Fuwa Sho's entourage. While the park was indeed massive, Ren had not paid much attention as to where his stroll had led him, and there was a possibility that he might, during the comfortable leisure of his walk, have strayed further from the commercial set than he'd intended to. Being a wanderer with an uncanny sense of direction ingrained in him, he didn't doubt that he would be able to find his way back, but coming across this young girl was proving to be rather startling.

"Part of his crew?" she echoed. The girl's face took on an incredulous expression. "Excuse me? I am his _girlfriend_! We've been together for years and years! We love each other! If anything, I'm going to be his wife one day!"

Ren's dark brow lifted higher.

He watched her thoughtfully. If what she was saying was true, and it must be to an extent, or she wouldn't be here, in this park that was booked by the singer—and himself—and hence was out of bounds to random strangers, then there was a great deal to wonder about. Firstly, although he had never bothered to properly notice Fuwa's appearances in the press, he was sure that he'd never seen this girl before beside the singer. During those few times where he had come across Fuwa, be it in award shows or in random large parties where the host had invited both of them, the blonde was always accompanied by a model of some sort. Ren hadn't cared to observe him, but from what he could remember now, the singer had been engaging in unmistakably non-platonic displays of affection with them.

He wondered then if this supposed girlfriend who had dated him for 'years and years' knew about it.

Probably not.

Secondly, if she was really Fuwa's girlfriend, then his already poor opinion of the man had gone steadily downhill. Ren would never ask any of his lovers, be it in the present or past, to carry out errands for him, including buying his refreshments, especially not under the hot sun like today. A man should carry his own weight, and his lady's with him, if necessary. This was less due to his gentlemanliness, as many would think, and more because of his masculine pride.

"You are Fuwa Sho's partner?" Ren said politely.

"I'm his girlfriend!" the girl ranted aggressively. "It's only a matter of time before he proposes to me, and then after we marry, he'll make it official, and we can finally do the things that a woman and a man who love each other do—"

Ren's powerful shoulders were shaking with suppressed humor. Could she be any more blunt? "Such as?" he said wryly.

"Like watching television, and eating meals together, and all that kinda stuff," she said plainly, staring at him as if he was stupid.

That was _not_ the answer Ren had been expecting.

His lips quirked with incredulous mirth. "I see."

"Now are you going to return me the drink or not?" the girl demanded heatedly, speaking again. She tried to get up, most likely to snatch it from him, only to wince in pain.

"Don't move," he intervened calmly.

Ren set the aluminium can down on the ground, reached into the pocket of his skinny jeans, and took out a sunflower-embroidered handkerchief. He leant down, fingers gently touching her scraped knee (she seemed resistant to let him touch her, but in the end said nothing, possibly out of curiosity about what he intended to do), and after making sure she was still, wrapped his handkerchief expertly around the wound so that the fabric resembled a tourniquet, except not as tight.

"You will need to rinse the wound later on," he commented, adjusting the knotted material on her knee. "Or it might get infected."

When he glanced at her again, he saw that her large eyes—round and hazel—were staring at him. Only there was no longer any anger in them, but rather, interestingly enough: awe.

"Are you a doctor?" she whispered.

It was then when Ren, still bent before her, finally realised just what made her so magnetizing, despite the lack of striking beauty in her fine, soft features. She was pretty enough, he supposed, but what had gravitated him almost immediately towards her was the open _innocence_ in her countenance.

"No," he responded, deep voice melodic with silent laughter. "I am not. I do have some medical knowledge, though."

He offered her a hand, and this time, she accepted it. Her fingers were tiny against his far larger ones, and he gently tugged on them, making sure not to hurt her. They rose from the pavement, her hand still in his.

Once Ren was sure she was steady on her feet, he let her go.

She continued staring at him, and he knew that she was really seeing him for the first time now. "Who are you?" she asked hesitantly. "You're not part of Sho-chan's production team. Are you…" She took in a sharp breath, eyes blinking rapidly. "You're somebody from Tsuruga Ren's team, aren't you? I heard he booked the park too!"

She didn't recognise him.

It was interesting. He had to admit himself intrigued. Although he presently wore a black cap and large dark shades (more because of the brightness of the sun than an attempt to go incognito), any fan of his who observed him from close-up—like the young female currently did now—could, by right, still be able to recognise him. The fact that her profile remained blank meant one thing: she didn't know him well. Oh, she'd heard of him alright, as she had plainly just said his name, but other than that it was plausible she had never paid close attention to his features, which could explain why she didn't register who he was now. This, if true, was astounding, for his appearance held familiarity throughout Japan. He was not being arrogant—this was simply the truth. Even if one did not watch his dramas and movies, his face was still frequently shown in commercials on television, or on posters displayed inside shopping centers and other public locations.

From how besotted she appeared to be with Fuwa, it was not hard to presume she might never had given Tsuruga Ren more than a spare glance.

Ren did not think she was pretending not to recognise him. As a skilled actor, and as a liar himself, naturally, he had an uncommonly accurate knack in detecting untruths from others, judging by the way they spoke or behaved. One's mannerisms were very important, and a big giveaway. This was why this woman appeared so captivating to him; there was a spellbinding—fragile even—innocence glowing in her countenance that he couldn't ignore. He could not perceive the slightest trace of dishonesty from her. Every emotion that crossed her visage was undisguised and genuine.

"Yes," Ren said smoothly, in response to her question. Unlike her, however, he was not as honest, but a part of him wanted to scrutinize her reaction—to see what else he could elicit from this fascinating, unpredictable female. "I am a member of Tsuruga Ren's production team."

"Oh." Her hazel eyes widened, delicate and childish.

And then she did something that took him utterly aback.

She spat disdainfully on the mossy pavement, glowering.

"Well, tell your boss that he's a complete asshole," she scoffed. "How dare he book this park to film when Sho-chan came first? Just because this is a big park doesn't mean he can barge in like that!"

Ren's dark eyes flashed with amusement.

This was proving to rather entertaining. Still, he knew he shouldn't be surprised. If she was Fuwa's partner, and quite a devoted one to him, too, as it seemed, then it would only be logical that she disliked Ren, being Fuwa's supposed one-sided rival.

For he did not consider Fuwa as _his_ rival.

"I'm afraid that in order to protect my employment," he said wryly, "it would be wiser of me not to say that to him."

She stared defiantly back at him, her endearing, little nose upturned. "You should end your employment," she announced firmly. "Ren's a horrible actor. You shouldn't lower your own standards by working for him!"

"Horrible?" Ren asked, lips quirking.

"Yes! It's ridiculous that he came first in the recent popularity poll! The poll is rigged, I tell you! Sho-chan deserves to be first, not him! Tsuruga Ren is overrated and—"

"The poll was rigged?" He was trying very hard not to laugh. "Is that so?"

"Well, if you think about it, Sho-chan is handsome, sweet, charming, and talented! Isn't he the best candidate?"

"Oh? And why is Tsuruga Ren, on the other hand, overrated?" he hummed.

The girl seemed to falter slightly. "Well," she said, after a second's pause, "Sho-chan said that he can't act for nuts. And Sho-chan also said—"

"I am not asking about what he said," Ren interrupted, unperturbed. He gave her a tranquil smile. "I am asking what you think."

She stared daggers at him. It wasn't hard to provoke her ire, he noted silently. It was almost fun, even.

This was not his first time witnessing headstrong women. There were plenty of females who were as feisty as this one, with a powerful temper to match, that had appeared in his line of work. Having acted in many projects, he had his share of lady co-stars who were strong, ferocious, and undeterred by the occasional nonsense that transpired during the set. He respected and liked them (and had enjoyed his intimate tasting of their offerings some nights), but had not felt as deeply fascinated as he did now. Those beautiful women, while fiery, were exactly so, being therefore somewhat one-dimensional. They were alpha, unbeatable women, the leading role models for all other females, but this little one standing here, despite her easily stirred wrath, possessed an undeniable frailty; she would shatter and break if one was not cautious with her, and not just physically.

And yet, despite her fragility, she was breathtaking in her rebelliousness.

His cat-like tongue quietly licked the brim of his perfect lips. A certain predatory instinct—dormant for years—had begun to awaken within him, though he was cautious in making sure it remained leashed. While she was rather enchanting, there was still a lot he did not know yet.

One step at a time.

She was speaking, he realised.

"Since you want my opinion," the girl said hotly through bared teeth, "I think Tsuruga Ren is nowhere as attractive as Sho-chan. He's really ugly."

Ah. For the first time since his encounter with her, a flash of dishonesty had surfaced in her demeanor. Even without his remarkable ability to detect lies, he could read it across her flushed, heart-shaped face as plainly as words on paper.

It seemed she was not as loyal to her darling Sho as she appeared to be.

And also, it was evident that while she had not paid much attention to his public appearances on television or on the big screen (hence she didn't recognise him now, under the flimsy disguise of his cap and sunglasses), she had noticed enough from what little she remembered to make judgement.

"Hideous, wouldn't you say?" Ren murmured, still watching her intently.

"Exactly," she added quickly, scowling. "Ren's hideous."

Sculpted lips curved. She was lying again.

He shook his dark head in an air of theatrical disapproval at her. "What a superficial child you are."

The female looked indignant. "That's not true! I'm _not_ superficial—"

"Ah, but you are judging someone based on their appearance, yes?"

She winced, staring irately at him.

Her retort was cut off, however, when the metal can of coffee was suddenly placed back onto her palms. She jumped, and hastily held onto it before it dropped out of her grip.

"You ought to head back now," Ren prompted gently, releasing the can. "Isn't someone waiting for you?"

"Oh." She sucked in her breath audibly and her shoulders jolted upwards. Clearly, for a good few minutes, she had completely forgotten about the errand she was running for Fuwa.

A mute second passed, and her gaze flickered down to her handkerchief-wrapped knee.

Easily he read her thoughts. "I don't need that anymore. Keep it, if you wish."

Her doe eyes were determined hazel pools, surprising him. "No," she said. "The least I could repay you with for helping me is to return it to you. I have a band-aid somewhere in my bag. Can I come find you once Sho-chan wraps up today? I'll wash the hankie. You'll be at Tsuruga Ren's filming set, right?"

Obviously, having her come to the commercial set was not something he could allow, not unless he intended to reveal his identity to her. For some reason, he wanted to play with his current facade for a bit longer. If she knew he was Tsuruga Ren, her fiercely biased resentment towards him would return, and their little game would end.

He did not want it to end… Not yet.

"Unfortunately, I'll be leaving his set right after this," Ren replied softly. "But if you truly wish to return the handkerchief to me, then perhaps we can meet another day."

Her pink lips pouted in open disappointment. "Well, alright. Where do I find you? What's your name, anyway? I'm Mogami Kyoko."

Mogami Kyoko. So that was her name.

He smiled at her. "Kyoko-chan. You don't mind if I skip the formalities, do you, judging as I am your benefactor?"

"_Benefactor_ is way too exaggerated a word," she grouched testily. "Anyway, what's your name?"

"If you wish to know," he answered cryptically, "then hold onto that handkerchief."

Her delectable lips parted confusedly. "What?"

"I will come and take that back from you one day, so just hold onto it and wait in the meantime."

The girl named Kyoko looked furious. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Before he could say anything, a third voice was calling her name. It didn't take long for Ren to recognise Fuwa's voice—the latter sounded irritable and annoyed, no doubt because of how long his coffee was taking. The moment Kyoko's back was turned, Ren had lowered his cap further and glided off, as silently as the whisper of the wind. He treaded gracefully through the thick knot of trees, making sure that the dense foliage and the mass of branches fully obscured his retreating figure. A couple of minutes later, he had swiftly navigated his way within the park back to the commercial set.

The filming crew, together with Yashiro, had appeared utterly relieved to see him, as he'd apparently taken quite a long while of absence during the lunch break. By the time everyone had calmed down, and once they were done asking him where he had gone and why he had been away so long, to which he apologized contritely, and by the time some of the staff members in particular had returned (they had been sent to search for the missing star and were later called back when Ren finally showed up again at the set), filming resumed. It lasted for about a couple more hours before everything was wrapped up.

No signs of Fuwa or his girlfriend materialized. So she had taken his advice… at least, he hoped.

He did not think she would fail his expectations.

"Yashiro-san," Ren called softly, rising from his seat beneath the shade. "There is a favour I would like to ask of you."

"What is it?" the manager asked curiously, eyes widening behind his lenses. Having packed his suitcase—and Ren's—he was ready to usher the actor away from the park and back into their awaiting car, positioned by the park's entrance. Ren, though, would be the one driving as per the norm since Yashiro was incapable of it.

"Please conduct a background search on a person named Mogami Kyoko. Her surname is rather unique, so it shouldn't be too difficult. She is about five foot three, perhaps in her early twenties, Japanese, and is currently Fuwa Sho's partner. I want to know everything you can find out between them. Hire a private detective if you must."

"B—but… Why?"

Ren smiled lightly. "It seems I have found a new area of interest. I think I would like to indulge a little, if possible."

He would find out a whole year later that his interest had steadily evolved into an obsession.

A dangerous obsession—it stirred and aroused his predatory instincts. The last time when those very instincts had been provoked during his adolescence, he had killed someone who stood in his way out of a pique of cold-blooded rage.

And now? He was wiser and cleverer than before, and so his sins were on a considerably tighter leash: he had merely manipulated circumstances so that Fuwa eventually separated from his conquest.

But that did not mean his blood thirst was quenched.

Or would ever be.

* * *

Despite Kyoko's ploy to secretly conceive a child with Ren, she had never truly considered his opinion on the prospect of becoming a parent. His opinion was not something she wanted to know in particular—Kyoko did not, after all, want his input once she became pregnant. Having been raised by a single mother all her life (and even her own mother, a distant, cold attorney who excelled in her career and less so in her maternal obligations, did not love Kyoko as much as most mothers loved their children), she was unfamiliar with the number of happily married parents out there. She simply couldn't grasp the concept.

How could a couple marry and have children together when their own marital relationship was beyond their control? Who was to know whether their partner or spouse would remain steadfastly faithful or willing to commit, let alone raise a child together? Her own father had ran off with another woman (the reason, she supposed, for her unloving mother's perpetually icy demeanor ever since) before succumbing to a terminal illness of some sort later and passing away. Sho had not been faithful either; even prior to his affair with Mimori he had treated Kyoko poorly. Often he vented his frustrations or moodiness on her using cruel words, and he never once displayed appreciation for the many things she had done out of love for him. She had chosen then not to acknowledge his lack of kindness towards her, refusing to believe that he was the man her father was.

She was forced to face reality at last when she finally came across the singer sitting in his hotel suite one day, with Mimori's glamorous body draped over him and her lips against his.

That had been the last straw, Kyoko knew.

Since that day, she was more convinced than ever that single motherhood was the safest way to go. _She_ would never leave her baby the way a man might leave his partner; neither would she grow tired of the baby, or cease to ever love it. In order to give her child a secure life, she did not want him or her to experience familial turbulence the way she personally had with her cheating father and cold mother. While the child might never feel paternal love, she reasoned that her own love—her passionate maternal instincts—would far overshadow whatever an unstable father could offer.

Kyoko wouldn't exactly call Ren unstable, but he was most certainly unpredictable. This was why she had no intention of even learning how he regarded fatherhood; playboys generally avoided the mere idea of it, from what she understood.

_So how had he found out?_

All she knew was that she had seemingly lost control on all of her senses in that single, horrible heartbeat after his speech. Her ears were buzzing, though whether the noise was coming from the other shocked occupants in the theatre or from inside her own head was a mystery to her. She remembered lowering herself back onto her crimson seat, her features a frozen, rigid mask. Her legs had gone numb within the veil of her dress, and she definitely would have crumpled and collapsed had she remained on her feet. She made sure that she looked at no one; not at the other actors and celebrities (who were speaking fervently amongst themselves, their jumbled string of words a blank, incoherent discord), not at Momose, not at Kijima, not at the cameramen (she could feel the lights going off on her face as camera shutters slammed), and most certainly not at Tsuruga Ren.

She had stared with all her might at a particular polished wooden tile on the stage platform instead, and remained obstinately silent as Ren left the stage (she heard the audience finally applaud thunderously after several stunned seconds, and the equally shocked host reluctantly resume his narration of the event), and joined her side along the plush theatre seating about an hour later, after seeing to goodness knows what backstage. She didn't stir as Ren seated himself gracefully back beside her, and refused to look at him, even when Momose and Kijima said something incomprehensible to the gorgeous, dark-haired actor. Everything was incomprehensible to her then, including how the other couple—amongst many—were taking this news. She remained frozen a few minutes later when she felt Ren's large hand gently pick up her tiny, limp one, his long, gloved fingers tenderly stroking her bare skin. And yet, in spite of her dazed stupor, for some reason Kyoko was aware of one thing, even without seeing it for herself.

She knew.

Ren was smiling.

And so time slowly ticked by, to the point that it was torturous. Kyoko didn't speak to him for the rest of the event, and surprisingly, he said nothing to her either. It was as if his silent treatment towards her earlier—by politely responding to and accepting pleasantries from everyone else without bothering to acknowledge her in the conversation—was back. She was still too struck and overcome by the bombshell he had dropped to be hurt, however.

Finally, the night had ended at about midnight, with Yashiro accompanying her on the ride back home. Ren, who needed to attend to some formalities set by the event host as well as to accept a few crucial interviews at the Star Awards Winners' afterparty, had instructed the manager to see that an exhausted Kyoko was escorted safely back home first. She had expected this somehow; her partner _was_ the award show's biggest star, after all, and it was only natural that he had societal obligations calling for him even after the awards' presentation had ended.

This was good. This had to be good.

For Kyoko knew the night had far from ended.

With this, it would delay the inevitable confrontation she would have to face later on tonight.

It had been havoc getting to the sleek, black limousine—a second, less flambouyant one than the limousine she had arrived in—that was her ride back home. Yashiro and Ren were both positioned protectively on opposite sides beside Kyoko, shielding her from the onslaught of reporters lying in wait outside the hotel building where the Star Awards took place. Her entourage of bodyguards were back on duty, and they fended off the hungry members of the press without hesitation, pushing the mass of vociferous bodies—and the fierce, blinding cameras attached—forcibly back. Questions flew across the air like rapid fire, searing through her vulnerable flesh.

"How far along is she, Ren?"

"Is the baby going to be a boy or girl?"

"How long have you been hiding her pregnancy, Ren?"

"Does Momose know about this woman, Ren? Is she happy for you?"

"Are you two engaged?"

"What is her name, Ren? How long have you been seeing her?"

Kyoko swallowed what felt like knives down her throat as she struggled to maintain a neutral facade. Tears gathered at the brim of her eyelids. She couldn't believe this was happening. It was hard to ignore the questions as effortlessly as Yashiro and Ren made it look, not when everything she had worked so hard to conceal was falling apart around her.

She had made a huge mistake coming here.

Meanwhile, Ren had taken off the large white blazer of his Armani suit, and right before they left the hotel, he had placed it over her delicate, tiny shoulders, most likely to keep her protected from the chilly night air outside as well as to let her hide her face in it from the cameras, if she wished.

Kyoko had glanced at him quickly for the first time since his speech that night, before looking away almost at once. Seeing him was too much to bear. She didn't want to read the expression—if any—on those aristocratic features. Of course, even without his blazer, leaving him in an elegant silk waistcoat and pale, buttoned shirt with sleeves rolled-up at his elbows, he appeared as infuriatingly attractive as ever.

She couldn't let him get to her anymore than he already had.

As she was gently guided back into the interior of the limousine, the last thing she inadvertently saw was unreadable liquid dark eyes boring into her own before the door of the car shut, leaving her alone with Yashiro (who had gotten in as well).

The vehicle set off.

His warmth still lingered on her skin like a sensual whisper.

And yet, despite everything that had transpired, she suddenly missed him. Her miniature fingers tightened desperately on the enormous sleeves of his overlarge blazer like it was her lifeline. A part of her—which she simply couldn't understand—wanted to scream at the driver to stop the car, so that she could run out and fling herself back into Ren's arms. She hated the knowledge that he was now most probably alone with Momose (and the other celebrities she didn't care about) back in the hotel. Her chest burned with a burning jealousy—and longing—so intense she nearly choked.

"Are you alright, Kyoko-san?"

She inhaled rapidly, jumping at the concerned male voice. She had nearly forgotten that the manager was inside the car with her.

How much did Yashiro know?

He definitely had heard what Ren announced in his speech. The entire _world_ had heard it, as the Star Awards was filmed and live streamed, much less the manager of the famous film star behind the shocking announcement. To his credit, Yashiro hadn't mentioned anything concerning that to her yet (not that he could, as there hadn't been a minute of privacy for Ren and Kyoko since the speech, at least up to now)—but the niggling query at the back of her mind was: had he known from the very beginning what Ren planned to do? Or worse, had the two of them planned this?

How had they known of her secret?

Her heart thudded. Pursuing this line of questions would mean venturing a long path of time all the way back, where everything had begun. How had Ren learnt of her pregnancy, despite her diligent attempts to conceal it? If he knew of her pregnancy and pointedly hadn't mentioned it to her until tonight, that meant he also knew she had been hiding it from him. If he knew she was hiding it from him, did that then mean he knew why she was hiding it from him? If he was aware the reason being she hadn't wanted to share the baby with him, did that mean he knew…

… why she had begun dating him from the very start?

Now that the shock was beginning to wear off, Kyoko could sense another emotion settling in.

Terror.

Yashiro had probably seen the fear in her face, for his next words were gentle. "There's no need to be afraid, Kyoko-san."

She swallowed thickly. The Queen Rosa lay like guilty weight on her collarbone.

"How… How can you be so sure?" she asked, voice choked. Her hazel eyes darted to the tinted windows of the limousine.

Her reflection, pale and large-eyed, stared back. The rose glinted innocently from the side of her chignon.

His reply, however, caught her utterly off-guard.

"It's about what Kijima-san said, isn't it?" Yashiro was shaking his head disapprovingly at the mention of the actor. "You've been looking out of sorts since his little speech. He's a great man, but he's always been infamous for saying things that are a little… inappropriate and strange. It's true that Ren is ambitious when it comes to his goals, but to call him a… What did Kijima call him again? Oh yes, a hunter. That was exaggerated and uncalled for, really."

Kyoko had to rein in her disbelief at Yashiro's statements. Kijima? Was the manager joking? Kijima was the least of her problems right now! Shouldn't Yashiro be more occupied with other much more pressing issues at hand, such as his discovery of her secret scheme to have Ren's baby—and how she had just been caught red-handed about it today? Hadn't he planned this together with Ren, to expose her and shock her tonight? And more than anything, didn't Yashiro know that she was dreading the conflict she was going to face later when Ren got home? Was Yashiro toying with her now, as a way to get back at her for callously using Ren as a 'babymaker'?

The rest of the car ride passed in tense silence, as Kyoko made no attempt to answer him.

Half an hour later, Yashiro had insisted on walking her from the limousine to the door of her home, or more technically, Ren's glamorous home. She was too tired to protest. Eager for some solitary reprieve, Kyoko allowed him to usher her past the large oak door of the modern terrace house, and once he had helped her switch on the interior lights of the first level of the opulent home—and when he was sure that she appeared alright—he finally bid farewell and left (probably to head back to the awards show), though not before gently assuring her that Ren would return soon by himself. Kyoko knew Ren didn't often hire a limousine—he was a capable driver of his very own automobile.

She slumped against the oak of the closed main door then, her platform heels sinking to the ground inside the lounge of the silent house. The girl bit her lip as the sleek sounds of the limousine driving off vibrated distantly outside. The veil of her dress floated about her lifeless legs like lacy clouds. She'd left his blazer behind in the car.

Her hand gripped her smartphone tightly. Now that she was finally alone, the sheer magnitude of her situation rose within her tummy, and she found herself gasping for air.

Oh god. The Star Awards was live streamed. Shotaro would definitely recognise her on television, no matter how dolled-up she appeared from the makeover. While Mimori might have failed to register her identity, this was very likely because the other woman had only seen Kyoko sans make-up (in other words, her usual self) a mere handful of times. She hadn't been familiar with Kyoko's default appearance in the first place, let alone after a makeover. On the other hand, she had grown her whole life together with Sho, and her childhood friend would surely recognise her even with all the cosmetics and fancy outfits in the world. All he had to do was put together what Mimori would imminently tell him (that she had seen Ren's date, who looked remarkably like Mogami Kyoko), and he would know.

Sho would know everything, that she was dating Ren, and that she was pregnant with Ren's child.

Fuck.

_It's alright_, Kyoko told herself desperately. He didn't have her phone number anymore, after all. She had, upon Ren's advice slash command, agreed to change her number a few days ago (Kanae, though, had her new number) so that Sho couldn't contact her anymore.

At least one good thing had come out of this.

Chewing the inside of her cheek nervously, Kyoko keyed the words _Star Awards_ into the internet bar on her phone.

The results were explosive. Kyoko had no idea how the paparazzi could work so quickly; their maniacal efficiency stunned her. The reporters had churned out articles mere hours after the much celebrated event had ended, and some of them had actually been published during the time of the event itself. She wasn't surprised, however, to note that Ren was the key subject of almost all the articles. He was, naturally, the biggest heartthrob in Japan, and he had dropped a massive bombshell on the country tonight.

And on her.

Her pulse sped up like a sledgehammer as she read some of the articles. A frightened, alarmed gasp tore from her throat when the bold headlines flashed before her eyes.

_**"REN AND HIS BABY MAMA, SECRETLY ENGAGED? ONLY IT'S NOT SO SECRET ANYMORE!"**_

Her large doe eyes scanned down the page, unable to tear away from the tabloid article.

_"Ren and his secret lover—whom he has revealed, to the shock of the public, is carrying his baby—made it pretty clear that a child isn't the only thing on the horizon for them! While they didn't disclose anything else, it's obvious that they were dropping hints all over the place tonight. The wedding theme of their matching white outfits? The white limousine? The red multi-carat ruby—this exotic, VERY expensive rock is known as the Queen Rosa, by the way—hanging from her necklace? And after confirming that they are about to be parents soon, it's pretty conclusive that an actual wedding is on the way!_

_Many speculate that the Queen Rosa, the only jewellery she was wearing, is his lucky lady's engagement rock! A ring, which is more traditional, is so old news, though! The Queen Rosa as a ring would draw attention to their engagement straightaway, and judging by how this unconventional couple prefers leaving subtle, intriguing hints about their relationship (they've hid it for goodness knows how long), it makes sense! Ren has always reinvented and done things his own way! An engagement necklace? We smell a new trend coming up!_

_Still not convinced? Well, Ren pretty much CONFIRMED it indirectly during a short interview backstage after he made that shocking winner's speech! Reporters asked him if the necklace was his version of an engagement rock, and this is what he said, rather wryly at that:_

"_Well, I suppose she did express her desire to spend a lifetime together when she accepted the Queen Rosa."_

_You're not fooling anyone, Ren! A lifetime together? If that's not an acceptance to a marriage proposal, then we don't know what it is!_

_While her name remains unknown (Ren's been tight-lipped about that), as well as her connections to this business, the rumor around town is that she isn't part of showbiz! Jealous fans of Ren's are already bemoaning their loss and frustration! Below are some of many Tweets minutes after his speech:_

"_Who is THIS BITCH? REN WHY!"_

"_I'M GOING TO STAB THIS SLUT. HE BELONGS TO MOMOSE, NOT THIS FREAK."_

"_PREGNANT? NOOOOO! HOW ABOUT MOMOSE?"_

"_Fuck this bitch. Who is she? She's NOWHERE as hot as Momose. I want her dead. NOW."_

"_She ruined the Golden Couple. I hope this bitch's happy now."_

"_SHE DOESN'T DESERVE TO CARRY HIS BABY! I FEEL SO SAD FOR THE BABY'S GENES, TO HAVE SUCH AN AMAZING FATHER AND DISGUSTING MOTHER!"_

"_First thing first: Track down this whore. After that, cut her up. Brutally. I won't rest until she miscarries and dies."_

Kyoko's pink lips trembled. Tears were threatening to fall from her lids, but she held them in. Crying wouldn't solve anything. As long as she remained here, in Ren's home, nothing would be solved.

_I have to flee._

She was petrified. She couldn't stay—couldn't face the impending confrontation when the true owner of this house returned. The awful fear was rising like sickening bile in her throat, and her airways had tightened menacingly like a noose around her neck. Kyoko let out a wretched sob. Her hand reached out and violently ripped the torn rose from her hair.

It fell soundlessly.

She couldn't take it anymore; rational thoughts be damned. Her legs moved on their own, rushing up the stairs, across the landing, and into the bedroom she shared with Ren. Her dress flickered.

The next few minutes were spent as Kyoko pulled out her wheeled briefcase—which had been unused since she moved in over a month ago—from the tall, looming wardrobe of the master bedroom. The wardrobe was incredibly massive, and she shared her belongings with Ren's in it. His collection of clothing as a superstar was, while fashionably tasteful and simple, very vast. In the beginning, it was due to the fact that her own clothes were little in number that she felt minimum guilt sharing his big wardrobe with him. However, as time passed, he had purchased many costly dresses for her, not to mention various articles of expensive lingerie (which had in turn spiced up their activities in bed), much to her embarrassment then. Her burgeoning assemblage of garments were starting to match his in number thanks to his gifts.

Kyoko opened her briefcase, knowing she couldn't pack any of the clothes he had bought for her. The girl loved them, and nothing had thrilled her more than to receive his presents (and what breathtakingly beautiful dresses they were), but it was solely because of this factor that she had to leave them behind. She couldn't take any of his things with her. It would break her already shattered heart completely. In fact, since her limited time now didn't allow for a change out of the gorgeous, designer bridal gown she was wearing, she decided to pass it to Kanae afterwards, and to ask her to return it to Ren in Kyoko's stead.

Kyoko jumped as a piece of fabric fell onto the floor halfway throughout the process of pulling her own clothes into the wheeled briefcase. Eyes widening, she stared at it. It was a sunflower embroidered handkerchief.

Her pulse raced.

Lowering her briefcase, she bent down, and picked it up. It had been way over a year now since she became its owner.

Nostalgia welled up within her.

Kyoko had never dared to ask Ren—assuming he recalled—if he could pinpoint and let her know that particular staff member who had worked more than a year ago in his ever-changing production crew; she was deathly afraid that said staff member, when identified (for Ren did have an uncanny memory), might mention to the actor all the mean things she'd once said about Ren. She hadn't been serious about her criticism towards him. It had all been spat out in the heat of the moment (and in the foolish heat of her passion for Sho), and she regretted it immensely now.

"I'm sorry," Kyoko whispered to the handkerchief. "I can't wait for you any longer."

Still holding onto it, she moved her hands and undid the clasp of the necklace at the back of her neck, her belly aching with intense misery. Kyoko then wrapped the glimmering Queen Rosa and the gold chain attached to it using the handkerchief. She was so accustomed to having it around her neck—she had never taken off the necklace since Ren gave it to her, not even when she bathed, for she treasured it dearly—that its current absence of contact made her skin feel cold and neglected. Her white lip quivered as she reluctantly lowered the handkerchief-wrapped bundle onto the bed-stand.

She didn't hesitate any further after that. The woman threw more of her clothes into her briefcase without bothering to fold them (there wasn't enough time), and hurriedly zipped the luggage. The mess inside caused her to struggle against closing the zip. Never mind toiletries; there ought to be some leftover in her apartment—which she hadn't revisited since she left for Ren's home—or she could always borrow from Kanae. Thank goodness she didn't have to deal with the hassle of her period, and that, in fact, it wouldn't return for the next nine months. But then again, Kyoko often forgot to keep track of her monthly cycles, and it was Ren who studiously noted its timings and purchased her sanitary pads throughout their relationship, much to her mortification. However, her periods were irregular, and just because she was over a week late didn't suffice to conclude she was pregnant, not without further proof.

Setting the briefcase onto a standing position atop its wheels, she tugged out the handle, and began dragging the bulk towards the room door. She had barely flung the door open and rushed out before she unceremoniously banged her head against a hard, muscled surface.

Large hands swiftly steadied her shoulders, and she jerked her head backwards.

The briefcase fell fully to the floor in a loud, heavy thud.

Ren had evidently changed out of his white Armani suit on his way here in favour of something less formal. Instead, he now wore a black turtleneck sweater and long, skin-tight leather pants.

She hadn't heard him come back. She hadn't heard the engine of his car (though it wasn't possible to hear something so far outside from the location of the bedroom), or his footsteps (but Ren always walked so gracefully that he made almost no sounds).

His smothering dark eyes flickered to the opened wardrobe, the strewn clothes, and finally landed onto the fallen briefcase.

A silent second passed, and he raised his hand. It didn't take her long to recognise the crumpled white rose resting along his elegant fingers.

His narrowed eyes turned to her face.

It was the flower Kyoko had ripped from her hair.

* * *

_:tbc:_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** On a random note, I've planned and outlined plenty of chapters ahead (actually I already did that since June), in case you guys want to know.

By the way, this is an AU, so this means there are characters who are different from the canon version. Hint: I mean the ages. You'll get what I mean when you read the chapter, no worries! I love all of you, and thank you to those who commented. Reviews equate to motivation!

I hope you enjoy.

**Edit: **Somebody made me realise you guys might have misunderstood me. While I have planned and outlined chapters, it doesn't mean that I have actually written them all yet. It just means I have a vision on how to write the coming chapters and how the plot is going to pan out in my head (although I wrote a short timeline on a Word document already per chapter). Hope this clears any misunderstandings!

* * *

_:Chapter 8:_

Kanae stared in shock for what seemed to be the nth time at the now blank television screen. Glancing back down at her smartphone, she frowned. Kyoko wasn't picking up her call. The dark-haired beauty hung up in annoyance, and set her phone back onto the couch. She folded her arms over her chest pensively.

What the hell was going on? Ren had announced Kyoko's pregnancy at the awards show. She wasn't surprised he'd managed to find out (he definitely took Kanae's hint at how Kyoko was no longer taking birth control in mind), but to announce it like that to the whole world… Did Kyoko permit this? If she had, didn't this mean Kyoko no longer intended to go ahead with her scheme? Had she changed her mind? Did she want to settle down with Ren now? What happened to her persistence on pursuing single motherhood?

This was naturally a success, of course, since Kanae greatly approved of their relationship.

Damn. Why wasn't Kyoko picking up? The least she could do was update Kanae, especially after all the hard work Kanae had put into matchmaking them! Not that Kyoko knew, but still.

Something still felt off, though, and Kanae sighed.

She'd told Ren over a week ago that Kyoko was no longer taking birth control, and that was it. When Kyoko told Kanae later on that she was pregnant, the latter had kept silent about it, choosing not to tell Ren. She knew he was smart enough to figure out her pregnancy himself—with the aid of Kanae's hint earlier. Ren was probably on the lookout during the past week to confirm Kyoko's possible pregnancy via his own means and methods. She never questioned his ability; he was the most intelligent man she'd ever known.

This whole matchmaking scheme of hers had begun many months back, before Coco was born. Her husband, Hiou Uesugi, a popular actor who was several years older than her (he declined his invitation to the Stars Awards due to a mere disinterest, of all things), had thrown a sort of get-together at his house, inviting several other popular actors, including Ren. While Hiou wasn't the type to regularly throw events, he was using the house to celebrate the birthday of one of the actors whom he owed a close debt to.

Kanae hadn't been in a partying mood; Kyoko had just gotten dumped by Sho after stumbling across his act of infidelity in his suite, and her heart was absolutely shattered. Kanae wanted to comfort her friend, but didn't know how. She was never good at handling people. She figured that Kyoko wanted some time alone (it was what Kanae would want herself if she was in such a situation too), and had decided not to bother her. This meant, though, that Kanae was uneasy, distracted, and worried throughout the party.

Somehow she ended up in the kitchen alone with Tsuruga Ren. The others had gone out to the lounge of the house to chat, and she was not in the mood to join in. Glancing at Ren, she wondered if he felt the same way. It was quiet and peaceful here in the kitchen. It was odd, though, for such an in-demand film star to want to take a breather from socializing; one would think he was already used to it. On the contrary, Fuwa Sho—that piece of scum, the reason for her distraction right now—seemed to enjoy attention. She wondered if Ren had accepted the invitation to this get-together as a form of professional obligation. It wouldn't be good for his reputation to refuse invitations from other famous stars.

Networking, that was what it was.

Kanae searched for something to say. Maybe it was due to her own lack of social skills that she couldn't rise to intense stardom, and was still a small-time actress. Not that she really cared.

Thankfully, he spoke first.

"It is good to see you, Kotonami-san," he murmured. She could see why millions of women loved him worldwide; there was something strangely compelling about that silky, deep voice of his. It wasn't just on-screen. "Your and your husband seem to be doing well."

"Thank you," Kanae said demurely. "And I see Tsuruga-san is doing well too."

Ren flashed a smile at her. With his glossy dark hair slicked to the back of his head, he looked luxurious and expensive. "Ah. Yes. Thank you."

Looking at Ren reminded her of Sho; of how two very successful men who stepped into showbiz could turn out so differently. One was an arrogant, attention-seeking brat who couldn't keep his hands to himself, while another was kind, gentlemanly, and respectful towards his peers and lovers. While Ren, too, like Sho, seemed to enjoy the company of beautiful women, he was never known to cheat. He always ended relationships cleanly before starting another one. Kanae fancied that he was somewhat cunning; he didn't sleep with women whom he didn't date. In other words, there was no sex without strings, but he kept those strings short. This was to uphold his reputation as a gentleman—what if women went around whining that they had a one-night stand with him only to be denied further involvement the following morning? However, nobody could blame him for having short relationships.

This gave girls the feeling that he was a player, but yet at the same time, a gentleman, unlike Sho, who was just a pure bad boy. It was a pretty sound marketing strategy, since the former attracted more women.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Ren teased serenely.

Kanae gave him a small, blunt smile. "Tsuruga-san, what do you think of Fuwa Sho?"

It was a pretty brash question, considering Fuwa and Ren were well-known rivals in the business. Sho had challenged Ren before, and she knew that although Ren had ignored him, it didn't necessarily mean that he was utterly nonchalant towards the other male. Fuwa might not pose as much of a threat to the actor since he was neither as popular or as acclaimed as the latter for now, but he was steadily rising into prominence in showbiz. Matching Ren in relevance and status was a far-off dream for Sho, though not impossible.

The side of Ren's lips quirked, and his brow arched at her bold question.

"What do I think of him?" he repeated, almost mockingly. "Well, I think he is a very accomplished singer and songwriter."

Kanae didn't miss the sardonic inflection in Ren's voice. Evidently he wasn't completely nonchalant about Sho, and she couldn't blame him. Who enjoyed being compared to that spoilt brat of a singer, which the press often did? Despite having a different career, Sho's rabid female fanbase and open antagonism towards Ren added fuel to fire in the media. If there was one thing Kanae knew, it was that the media loved pitting stars against one another, especially female ones. Women liked to throw shade at one another more visibly, but men were quieter. The fact that Fuwa Sho—a male celebrity—was pretty open in his dislike towards Ren sent the reporters into a delighted frenzy.

"Tsuruga-san," Kanae began impulsively, "Between you and Fuwa Sho, if I had to root for someone, it would be you."

Ren smiled courteously, laughing a little. "It's very kind of you, and I appreciate it, but there is no need to root for anyone."

She stared at the kitchen counter, feeling slightly embarrassed. She, the proud Kanae Kotonami, embarrassed!

"If I am not being too rude, may I know what brought on the topic of Fuwa Sho?" Ren inquired softly. "You seem to—correct me if I am wrong—feel a certain lack of warmth towards him."

Kanae looked up, meeting his dark-eyed gaze. There was something unfalteringly charismatic about him, luring her in. Even though Kanae rarely saw Tsuruga Ren (a small-time actress like herself did not associate often with big shots), she felt the sudden urge to confide in him and trust him, as if he could help solve all her issues. This was bizarre, as Kanae did not trust people. She was a very reserved person by nature, and disliked sharing personal details with others whom she was not close to. Heck, she didn't even like sharing with those she was close to!

Yet all Ren did was smile at her with those perfect lips and twinkling obsidian eyes, and she was falling into his little trap.

"Let's just say," Kanae said cautiously, "that Fuwa did something to a friend of mine that left her in a bad state."

Ren rested his perfectly pointed chin on his hands musingly. "I suppose he was unfaithful to her?" he asked.

Kanae's jaw dropped. "Tsuruga-san—how did you—"

"Calm yourself," Ren said kindly. "You mentioned, after all, that your friend is a her. What else could Fuwa do to a girl to leave her in a bad state other than be unfaithful?"

He had a point.

Still, his perceptiveness was alarming. Kanae had barely spilled any details to him and he was already prying them apart and making conclusions—and right ones, at that. She knew Ren was famously intelligent, but his shrewdness still caught her off-guard. Kanae had to admire him; most entertainers in the industry did not possess much brains, having barely finished high school during their teens. All they had were good looks and an ability to create controversy. Kanae didn't know about Ren's education, but he was decidedly impressive unlike his counterparts.

No wonder he was so madly popular.

"You're right, Tsuruga-san," Kanae admitted. "I would be so grateful if you could keep this between ourselves, though."

He smiled gently at her. "Of course." He lifted his chin from his hands, then spoke again. "Speaking of which, may I ask something in regards to this lady?"

Kanae started. "Yes."

Since when was he so intrigued by Sho's love life?

"This is just a wild guess, but is her name Mogami Kyoko?"

Kanae sucked in her breath and jerked in astonishment. It was thank heavens for her acting skills that she kept her eyes from popping out of her sockets in shock, which was disgustingly unglamorous anyway.

But Ren wasn't just being perceptive this time; this was freaking _mind-reading_.

"Tsuruga-san—"

"My apologies," Ren chuckled quietly, his white teeth gleaming. "Forgive me for alarming you, Kotonami-san."

"Do you know her yourself, Tsuruga-san?" Kanae said in disbelief. "But she's not from this business..."

How on earth did Ren know about Kyoko? Although Kyoko had been in a relationship with Sho, the singer rarely brought Kyoko to award shows and star-embedded gatherings. No other celebrity even knew Sho was taken, and Sho didn't want to correct them. As an idol, Sho was aware that being single and unattached held an allure towards his fanbase. If they discovered he was taken, said allure could deteriorate. Therefore, Sho was adamant that a crushed Kyoko stay out of his way whenever he was within the limelight. Kyoko had foolishly thought things would change if he proposed to her, since he might officially announce his marriage to the world.

It didn't happen.

So how on earth did Ren know?

"A few months ago," Ren recalled, his dark eyes far-away, "Fuwa Sho and I both happened to be filming at the same park. It arose from an unexpected inconsistency in our schedules. During our lunch break, I came across this girl. She did not recognise who I was."

Kanae wasn't too shocked about that—Kyoko had been so obsessed with Sho that no other star alive managed to hold her attention, not even the biggest one on the planet. If anything, Kyoko despised any star that stole Sho's limelight. When Sho issued the challenge to Ren, Kyoko had been cheering for him (behind the scenes, of course). She didn't like Ren, thinking he was a major obstacle in Sho's career. Kanae was instantly wary that the naïve Kyoko might have said anything to criticize Ren… unknowingly in his face. Still, Kyoko couldn't have been so dense, right?

Right?

"She was quite fascinating," Ren continued, long, slender fingers stirring against the surface of the counter. "She told me that she and Fuwa were getting married soon."

Kanae cringed. What was wrong with Kyoko, honestly? Why was she babbling to other people about this? It had been Kyoko's own foolish speculation that Sho was going to propose to her, something Kanae never foresaw. Sho would never want to be tied down maritally. Just dating Kyoko was enough for him to feel suffocated. He didn't like commitments, and the only reason he made one to Kyoko was so she could continue carrying out errands and chores for him. Kanae had warned Kyoko numerous times, but she didn't believe her, at least not until recently.

"I wasn't sure whether to believe her," Ren said, smiling. "She sounded more like a passionate fan of his than someone in an actual relationship with him."

"It isn't true," Kanae said tiredly. "I mean, it is true that they were dating, but they never planned to get married." She sighed. "She's such a tiresome child."

"I never expected her to be a friend of yours," Ren responded graciously. "It seems the world is rather small, indeed."

"You honestly scared me when you said Kyoko's name. I thought you were a mind-reader."

Ren threw his dark head back, and laughed, a rich, glorious rumble at the back of his throat. "Unfortunately, that is not the case. I guessed her name because I do not know about Fuwa's partners, and so she was the only person that came to mind when you mentioned he was unfaithful to a woman."

Kanae nodded. "That makes sense. They were together at that time, you see."

"I wasn't sure at all if she was even his partner, to be honest."

Kanae smiled resignedly. She herself doubted if Sho truly saw Kyoko as his partner then. "So, Tsuruga-san… Did you eventually tell her who you really were that day at the park?"

Tsuruga shook his head ruefully. "I wanted to, but she appeared rather… antagonistic towards the idea of who I was. I was forced to use an alter ego in order for Mogami-san to remain cordial to me."

Kanae winced. It seemed her fears were true; Kyoko _had_ slammed Ren in his face. "Let me apologize in her stead. She's always like this. She was obsessed with Sho then, and I disapproved of it—"

"Your judgement must be sound, in light of his recent infidelity towards her."

"Too bad she didn't listen," Kanae muttered. She looked back up at Ren. "I'm sorry if she was rude to you that day. She doesn't know better."

The edges of his sculpted lips curved. "You don't have to apologize. In fact, I found her very endearing."

Kanae widened her mascaraed eyes. Now this she was not expecting. Ren found Kyoko endearing?

She surveyed Ren, and embarrassedly met his amused gaze. His long, sooty lashes fluttered and rested briefly against his smooth cheekbones, before rising again.

He smiled guilelessly. "I hope I didn't startle you with my little confession."

Kanae laughed lightly. "A bit. But I'm glad you liked her, since that child can be hard to like sometimes."

"Ah, yes," Ren stated musingly, "But she caught my eye, that little one."

Kanae's pulse increased. Was this true? Would it be too much to assume that Ren was, well, interested in Kyoko?

Truly, miracles could happen.

Kanae thought about it. Ren was a gentleman, and, according to the females who personally dated him, was also the sweetest lover to all his women. He respected them, dutifully remembered their birthdays, paid for their meals and presents, and doted on them as if they were the center of his universe. The only problem was that his relationships never lasted long, and always ended after maybe around a few weeks. His lovers, who thoroughly enjoyed being with him (they said the sex was mind-blowing, too, though Kanae, a married woman herself, didn't have to know that), were crushed.

The lovers also lamented that their relationship lacked a _spark_ somehow; he seemed distant from them. But when asked in what way he was distant, they were unable to say. Did he buy them gifts? Did he spend time with them? Did he give them an insanely good time in bed? Yes to all.

Kanae thought that this what Kyoko needed right now. Get a man to treat her like a queen, to let her know what a good boyfriend was really like (which Sho was _not_), and as for emotional investment, well, that could wait until later. Kyoko needed a distraction. She needed a few dates with someone else to get her mind off Sho.

Ren had been single for a while now. This might work.

"Tsuruga-san," Kanae prompted slowly, "I apologize if I am being too forward, but would you like to see Kyoko again some time soon?"

Ren's amusement seemed to increase visibly, and Kanae feared for a second that she had misread the situation.

Then he spoke.

"Not now," Ren answered silkily. "There are many things I hope to be, but a diversion is not one of them."

God! It was like he really was a mind-reader!

"However," he went on, "in the future, should the need arise, I would be delighted if I could consult you for some insight. After all, someone as discerning as yourself would be of great aid."

Kanae smiled, flattered. "It would be a pleasure."

"Then," he purred, raising his large, slender, long-fingered hand towards her, "I take it we have an agreement?"

Again, the masculine charisma was back, almost hypnotizing her.

She smiled once more, then slipped her fingers against his elegant ones, and shook it.

"Yes."

* * *

Kyoko gasped, feeling her airways constrict ominously. She stared at the crumpled rose in his hand, refusing to meet his eyes.

The guilt and horror gnawing at her made her sick. She didn't expect Ren to return so quickly. But then again, now that she thought about it, she had spent a pretty long time in the house scrolling through the articles on her phone, panicking, and then rushing to pack all her things. In her state of heightened fear and anxiety, she hadn't been keeping track of the time, and she didn't know if it had been mere minutes or hours since getting back home.

Kyoko hated herself. She was such a bitch. She was the one who had schemed to use him, was the one who had lied to him, and was also the one unable to take it when caught red-handed about her scheme. Instead of staying behind to face the consequences of her actions, she had chosen to flee like a coward instead. Granted, Ren wasn't completely faultless either—how dare he announce her pregnancy to the world without letting her know first?—but she supposed this was her punishment. She had violated him in a sense by having him father her baby without his permission, and he had violated her in return.

Their relationship was messed up.

Still, she knew she was screwed. It was evident she was trying to flee; the fallen briefcase and the open wardrobe were glaring proof. How was she going to explain herself to him?

Kyoko bravely forced herself to look at Ren, and inhaled shakily when she saw that he wasn't looking at her, but was rather surveying the briefcase with quiet, dark eyes. As she watched, her tummy churning with trepidation, he bent and picked the briefcase up so that it was resting again on its wheels, his long fingers curled against the handle.

Still regarding the briefcase, he spoke softly, deep voice tinged with an emotion she couldn't immediately decipher.

"I see you despise me this much."

The rose fluttered from his hand.

And then, in a rush, she registered what the emotion was: hurt.

Kyoko felt as if a whip had struck her; god, she really hated herself. No! The idea of Tsuruga in pain and hurt was horrible; she wanted to curl up from the agony of it all. Hurting him in turn hurt herself far more than she expected—she was desperate to do anything to soothe him, to kiss him, to make his pain go away.

For his pain was hers.

Kyoko flung herself onto him, wrapping her small arms around his waist.

"That's not true!" she cried, choking. "I don't despise you! I could never despise you!" Her fingers tightened over the silk of his sweater. "You're my _everything_."

And the strange thing was, it was true. She thought her heart had sealed itself off after Sho, that she could never love again, but then she met Ren. He was unpredictable, frightening, gentle, kind, warm, cold, cruel… She couldn't understand him. He had been seemingly uncaring during the Star Awards, what with his refusal to introduce her as his date to the other women, and yet at the end of the day he went and announced such an intimate thing between them. It was frustrating and flustering at the same time.

But she could never despise him. Even if he treated her like Sho one day, she would never despise him the way she had despised Sho.

Soon, his presence was starting to grow within her chest, filling her until she was about to burst.

"Yet you wish to leave." His baritone voice was flat.

"Not because of you!" Kyoko burst out. "It's because I'm scared! I'm scared—scared of _knowing_—"

Scared of knowing that her covert little scheme had never been as covert as she thought, that he was aware all along of how pathetic and desperate she was, that she had fallen in love with him even when she wasn't supposed to…

That she never had any control over their relationship from the very beginning.

Kyoko flinched when he finally looked away from the briefcase and obsidian eyes scanned her face intently.

"Knowing?" he murmured.

She nodded, mouth trembling. "Just that."

She didn't know if he understood, but something told her he did. If there was anyone good at reading between the lines, it was Ren. After all, he knew of her scheme all along, didn't he? And yet throughout their time together he'd never even once brought it up.

The problem was knowing that he knew terrified her so badly.

"Then what do you say we put off _knowing_ for now?" Ren said evenly.

Kyoko jolted, letting go of him, her hazel eyes widening.

He reached out, tipped an adroit finger, and gently traced the side of her slender neck, where her pulse grew erratic. She was frozen, unable to react from the sensuality of his touch.

"Oh, do not misunderstand, little one," Ren said smoothly. "We have a lot to discuss, you and I. I am certain you have questions for me, and I have plenty to talk about with you as well. We can pretend there is nothing to say…" He moved his hand away from her pulse, and she gasped when his feather-light fingertips rested against her flat belly instead. "But we cannot ignore this."

Her stomach clenched beneath his fingers. He knew. He definitely knew.

"Don't do that," he chided gently, calloused thumb caressing her silk-clad abdomen, and she realized, her heart pounding, that he could feel her clenching.

"Okay," Kyoko said rapidly, before she could change her mind. "Let's put off knowing another day. Let's not… Let's not talk about it today."

_Please._

His shrewd midnight gaze roved her delicate features, then dipped and scrutinised the ivory white of her long dress. She was instantly self-conscious.

"You look just like a runaway bride, you know," he observed thoughtfully, drawing his hand away from her belly. She missed his warmth immediately, and had to resist the childish need to cling to him.

His dark head rose, as if he had come to a conclusion, and he spoke again, briefly and matter-of-factly. "A day."

"A day?" Kyoko repeated, bewildered.

"You wish to flee, do you not?" Ren inquired sardonically. "I can read it all over your face. You are tired and afraid, and you are hardly in the right state of mind to think properly at the moment. Then flee. For a day, run as far as you wish. Clear your mind. Calm yourself down. When you are better, return to me by the end of that day, and we will talk."

Her instinctive reaction was, even to herself, ridiculous. Kyoko felt resentment. So Ren was okay with her leaving? He wasn't going to stop her? Did he not care?

She was being so stupid. She was the one who wanted to leave, so why was she getting all annoyed now that he said she could?

Granted, he said only for a day, but somehow the impact still hurt.

Making sure she wore an indifferent mask of neutrality, Kyoko reached for her briefcase, only to blink in surprise when he gracefully tilted it away from her reach.

"Tomorrow," Ren informed her calmly. "Your one day starts tomorrow morning. It is past midnight now, and I will not allow you to wander about outside alone at this time of night."

Her heart thudded. "I—oh." Swiftly, she turned to the bed. "Then… um, I guess I'll go sleep then."

Kyoko kicked off the heels stiffly.

It was silly, how awkward she felt. She'd gone to bed for countless nights with him during the course of their relationship together, and it had become second nature to feel his secure arms around her as she slept. In fact, Kyoko knew that from now on, sleeping in bed alone without him by her side would feel strange and hollow. His existence had ingrained itself onto her body and soul, and nothing would change that.

However, right now she felt self-conscious and uneasy as she fumbled with the zip on the back of her white dress. Spending tonight with him would not be the same as other nights. Secrets had been revealed, amongst other things.

A hitch rose from her throat when his fingers brushed her clumsy ones aside gently, and then unzipped her dress in a fluid, swift motion. The milky fabric fell apart on her thin back, and he softly guided it away from her obliging shoulders. Layers of silk and veil eventually fell from her waist and thighs a couple of seconds later and gathered in a pile around her bare feet.

Ren's digits then probed her short hair, unraveling her chignon. Her copper locks fell lose around her neck.

She wrapped her arms around her near-naked body, dressed in only her matching white bra and panties. She wanted to grab her night robe and put it on, but realised she had packed it away. Crap.

Kyoko inhaled sharply as the powerful, masculine presence shifted behind her, his fingers effortlessly undoing her bra clasp. She obediently raised her arms, and the bra fell away to the floor, exposing the little mounds of her pink-tipped breasts. Her heart-shaped face flushed. She was glad he was behind her, and couldn't read her expression.

And then Ren was scooping her petite body up into his arms as if she weighed nothing, and within a few ground-eating strides he lowered her carefully onto the king-sized bed. Kneeling, he tugged teasingly at the waistline of her panties, to which she instinctively lifted her hips from the mattress, allowing the fabric to slide across her shapely legs.

Tossing the garment aside, he wrapped a large arm around her naked waist, and brought her closer towards him from where he knelt by the bed. Kyoko was already growing aroused and desperate for his contact, and she boldly lowered her disheveled head and kissed his lips.

Never mind what had transpired tonight. Words could come later. Talking could wait.

This could not.

He parted his lips in surprise, and she seized the opportunity to pierce his sinful mouth with her eager tongue. Their kisses were heated and fervent, and she mewled in pleasure as she tasted his intoxicating scent. She could feel the satisfied upturn of his sculpted lips as his feline tongue swept across hers, and entwined together.

And then he was kissing away from her plump lips, much to her brief disappointment, and was marking a fiery trail across her pale, smooth neck and her collarbone. He only kept going further down, and Kyoko cried out, her head falling back, when he curled his talented tongue across the swell of her bare breast and then finally around the bud of her left nipple. She clutched his silky, black hair passionately as he suckled on the little, sensitive pink tip. His spidery fingers reached up and softly cupped the fleshy valley of her naked left breast, caressing it tenderly.

Arousal thrummed in her womanhood.

"U—Unfair," Kyoko gasped. He stilled, and she knew he was listening. She managed to grab onto the remains of her composure now that his ministrations had temporarily ceased. "You're still fully dressed, and I'm—" She trailed off, blushing.

"You're…?" he prompted playfully, his hot tongue lazily swiping her hardened nipple as he spoke. She emitted a shrill moan, much to her mortification.

Feeling miffed and embarrassed, she yanked onto the collar of his turtleneck sweater, trying to peel it off of him. Ren chuckled, and moved his mouth away from her breast (she whined lightly in disappointment), then stripped the clothing off himself deftly.

It landed beside her dress, black mingling with white.

Her mouth literally watered at the sight of the sublimely crafted, muscled torso. The broad shoulders, the taut, well-formed biceps, the wall of sleek, ridged, hard muscles defined on his flat abdomen, and his magnificent torso tapering in to a narrow waist. There wasn't so much as an ounce of fat on his sculpted body. A supermodel's body, that was it was.

Before she could leap onto him and devour him, however, he was lavishing attention back to her other breast, his teeth sinking around her areola, tongue casually flicking the nub of her right nipple. His sharp teeth languidly scraped against her skin. He was careful not to aggravate the slightly tender mounds of her breasts, making sure that his capable tongue coiled around her nipple very gently, but still with enough force for her to feel the intensity of his passionate ministrations as he worshiped her breasts. She shrieked in bliss as the familiar sensation returned and multiplied, her tiny body shaking. His arm was back around her waist, steadying her.

Her nipples had turned as hard as little pebbles, and he used his teeth to teasingly flick at one of them, making her shudder at the friction, before turning his dark head to attend to the other one.

"You looked so beautiful in that dress tonight," Ren murmured huskily, tenderly kissing her erected nipples. "I ached for you all night. To be honest, I wanted to take my time removing the dress, but I could see you were tired." His lips curved against her breast. "It doesn't matter. You look even prettier wearing nothing."

His words, along with his ministrations on her throbbing nipples, sent a spasm straight to her pussy, and she screamed as the molten heat lurched and boiled at the core of her womb. The muscles of her womanhood contracted and she unexpectedly climaxed without any physical stimulation down south, falling helplessly against his arm. Blackness slammed onto her vision, and stars filled the darkness, making her dizzy with orgasmic rapture. Her back turned rigid and she cried out, thrusting her breasts closer to the heat of his addictive lips.

When she opened her eyes after what felt like several minutes, she realized, tears blurring her vision, that he had lowered her falling body onto the mattress, and was now spreading her slender legs apart. He sat in between them on the edge of the bed, thumbs stroking her calves, dark obsidian eyes intently observing the fluttering petals of her still climaxing pussy as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

How long had he been looking?

Her cheeks turned as red as blood as she felt the fading orgasm die down.

And then his eyes—completely blackened with masculine hunger—flickered upwards and met hers.

"You're so lovely when you come," Ren said quietly.

He bent his head, his feline tongue licking off a trickle of moisture, the result of her release, from her naked inner thigh, then nibbled on her soft skin.

Another jolt passed her nether region.

She sat up, pulse speeding like a sledgehammer, and crawled weakly but determinedly towards him on the bed. Maybe it was due to her pregnancy hormones, but she had never been this aroused and needy before.

Fuck. She needed Ren right now, or she was going to die.

Never mind that she had already achieved the goal she wanted from their relationship: a pregnancy. The truth was, every single time she had sex with him since a month ago, a baby was the last thing on her mind.

Not when it was going blank with the pleasure he was giving her.

Ren smiled mysteriously at her, still seated, unruffled, on the edge of the bed.

She ignored his knowing gaze and unzipped his tight leather pants, releasing him. He was large and painfully erect—evidently her orgasm had its effects on him. She quivered. His size was majestic. She extended her little tongue and timidly licked the side of his thick girth, both her hands wrapped around the impressive length.

He hummed a deep melody above her. She shivered at the sound.

Kyoko straightened up.

She was impatient. The girl parted her thighs further and, her small hands still holding onto him, pressed his shaft into her sodden opening, her moist pubic curls brushing against the tip. However, despite her earlier orgasm, she was still not sufficiently lubricated yet, and she grimaced in agony as his largeness breached her entryway.

"Don't be in such a rush." His rich tone was soothing and tender, but also commanding. "We have all night."

She protested feebly when Ren pulled out, but he ignored her. He pushed her gently down onto the bed, and she breathed raggedly with wanton desire as her head rested on the soft mattress. Squatting down by the bed and keeping her spread legs in place, he laid loving kisses over the small thatch of her pubic curls, as if to assuage her pain just now, his catlike tongue entering and lapping the slippery folds of her femininity. She panted at the incredible stimulation, and as he buried his perfect lips into her lady part, kissing the pounding moisture between her thighs.

Again and again his skilled tongue lashed unapologetically against her core. He teased her clit after locating it within less than a second, sharp molars grazing the swollen, blood-filled pearl. She arched her back, high-pitched moans escaping her lips, grinding her crotch against his flawless, dexterous tongue. He suckled on her sensitized clit as if it was solidified honey, and his tongue drew tantalizing patterns over the taut, vulnerable nub. The male hummed against the glistening, dewy pink walls of her pussy, sending rhythmic vibrations against her clit and into the liquid lava of her loins. This was a trick he occasionally employed when pleasuring her, and his rich, lush voice shoved her right off the edge.

"Ren! Re—_Ren!_"

Her second orgasm was exquisite and just as mind-shattering as the first, maybe even more so. She shrieked in euphoria, her body growing rigid as the muscles of her feminine entrance seized and throbbed with pleasurable shock. Soft liquids sprayed onto the bed sheets from between her legs as she exclaimed blindly, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and glazing over.

And then he was suddenly inside of her, the full length of his cock sliding snugly into her wet passageway.

He sighed huskily in masculine contentment.

She groaned, shuddering from both her orgasm and his entry. She was complete. She was filled with him—filled with the person she loved more than anybody else.

Ren possessively pinned her down, and her miniature body rocked beneath his muscled, far larger one, his hot, wet, powerful thrusts shaking their bed. He was inside of her, and yet his big, panther-like body enveloped her petite build entirely. It was intimate in ways she couldn't fathom.

When she eventually came, it was like nothing she'd ever experienced.

Like Tsuruga Ren was to her.

* * *

Kyoko cursed and swore under her breath as she glared at her reflection by the vanity the next morning.

Ren was gone. She had woken half an hour ago to find herself alone in bed. Her beautiful white gown was gone as well from where she had left it on the floor; Kyoko supposed that Ren had kept it away. She wasn't surprised he wasn't around; after winning an award at such an acclaimed awards show yesterday, it was no wonder he would still have plenty of societal obligations the following day as well. Also, he wasn't the kind of man who would take a break from his projects just because he had won an award. Celebration was lost on him. No doubt he was back to his normal hectic work schedule.

Kyoko was glad he was gone, for various reasons. Firstly, she was ashamed of herself for completely letting go last night. So much for her determination to leave—she went putty the moment he put his mouth on her. Kyoko had always prided herself in being a conservative, modest young girl. But with Ren, she tended to become insatiable. Like a total slut, she thought, wincing at the crude label. This was evident judging by how he had taken her for another two rounds last night, and she had enjoyed every minute of it. She was sure he knew too, since she had screamed his name throughout.

Her face burned.

Secondly, and this was linked to the first reason, it was also for the better because Kyoko wanted to murder him. Her legs were killing her; she had gotten out of their bed earlier and nearly fallen flat on her face. Her traitorous legs were like jelly and had gone as weak as a baby's. It had taken her a whole minute to limp to her vanity, where she saw another two things that increased her aggravation.

Ren had written her a note. She recognised the cursive, masculine slant of his gorgeous handwriting immediately. The note was brief, but told her enough.

"_A day, as promised. I expect you back by latest midnight. Sharp."_

"_Last of all, the Queen Rosa is yours. And it always will be."_

Kyoko's pulse quickened, and she had touched her neck, feeling miserable and unhappy. So he did notice its absence the night before. But she couldn't take it back. She wanted it, and she loved it madly, but it was not hers to keep anymore. At least, not until her problems with Ren were settled.

If they would ever be settled.

And then Kyoko had noticed the clock, and her melancholy faded. She seethed. It was already two in the afternoon! And Ren knew! He knew she always awoke late in subsequent mornings after numerous, exhausting rounds of vigorous lovemaking the night before. She had always complained that he was making her late for work. And yet here he had written a note, stating he wanted her back by midnight? This was much less than a day! This was _not_ as promised!

Had he seduced her last night because he had predicted this? Also, her current limp was another issue. He definitely knew she might not be able to walk properly afterwards. Kyoko fumed at the unfairness of it all; Ren, on the other hand, never suffered from any similar ailments the following day after a night of sex. His legs—long and sinuous as they were—never failed to serve him. In fact, she suspected that he could have mounted her for many more times if not for her own limits. His stamina was insane. The guy was a sex machine, Kyoko mutinously figured.

Had he slept with her last night, having calculated all these factors today? No one was that cunning, right?

Hah! Limp or not, late or not, Kyoko was going to show him. She was going to leave. Nothing would stop her.

She wrapped her scarf around her neck, making sure that it hid a dark love bite on the side of her neck. It truly humiliated her that she never even noticed him marking her last night during her lust-induced haze. She was wary, though, that he had marked her in other areas she couldn't find, and had thoroughly checked her jaw and the back of her neck—his favourite areas because it was hard for her to find them but easier for others to see—and saw nothing. The girl still didn't want to take any chances. She wore a long-sleeved cardigan to go with her scarf, and long jeans, matched with boots. Then she grabbed the handle of her briefcase, and slowly hobbled out of the house at the speed of a snail.

Kyoko took the bus to her apartment, where she figured she would evaluate what to do next. Besides, she hadn't returned to her apartment for a while, and she wanted to clear the accumulated cluster inside. At this rate, she wasn't sure if she could continuing living with Ren. Yes, the mere thought of separating from him tore her apart inside, but that was the issue. She had grown so attached to him that it was scary. It was bad, considering he knew she had used him in her schemes.

Kyoko rested her hand on her belly. Her baby was going to be hers alone. She didn't want to share it.

She quickly scoffed at herself. _You're acting as if he wants the baby. Why would someone as attractive and idolized as Ren want to be tied down by a baby? Being with a woman is one thing, but a baby is another entirely._

This being a point he would make later tonight during their inevitable discussion.

Painfully, Kyoko alighted the bus, the wheels of her briefcase hitting the pavement loudly. Not one passenger recognised her in spite of her face being broadcast to the whole world last night. Kyoko could only come to one conclusion: the makeover yesterday had done wonders, alright. She was peeved; was she that plain without her dress and the hairdo and the cosmetics? Ren always told her that she was beautiful, even prior to the awards show. But Ren was Ren. He was kind. Did he pity her?

Kyoko shook her head. There was no point thinking of this now.

She stared when she caught sight of a SUV parked outside her apartment block. As she continued looking in curiosity, the car door opened, and a familiar figure stepped out.

The spiky blonde hair. The ears, pierced with metallic studs. The leather coat, lined with extravagant feathers, and tight, ripped jeans. The glittering rings adorning long fingers. The knee-length, army boots slamming the ground.

The cold, arrogant blue eyes. The scowl.

Kyoko's mouth fell open when his eyes met hers. And then, before she could decide how to react, he was sprinting after her, long legs moving in a whirl.

She screamed in fear, and began hobbling away. Her limp didn't allow her to travel very far, unfortunately, and she gasped as he caught up to her in less than a minute, his boots thudding heavily behind her.

Ringed fingers grabbed her fluttering scarf.

Furious, she tried to tug herself away from his grip, and the scarf tore from around her marked neck as a result.

It fell to Fuwa Sho's stunned feet.

* * *

_:tbc:_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I can't believe it too, but yes, it's an early update! I just graduated from my business course, so all I've been doing is laze around. Speaking of which, I won't be as free anymore next month in October when work begins, so I wanted to squeeze in a chapter while I could.

Thank you to all those who reviewed! Reviews are what keep me going, so please comment if you have something to say!

Oh, and please remember, there are two sides to every story.

I hope you enjoy.

* * *

_:Chapter 9:_

The interior of the expensive, posh SUV was quiet.

Yashiro was used to the occasional bouts of companionable silence between Ren and himself. There was rarely any awkwardness when they worked. They had been manager and charge for so long now that working alongside Ren had become second nature to him. Ren was easy to work with. He was polite, kind, cooperative, and considerate. Unlike most celebrities out there who sang a different tune after they became famous, Ren remained the same amiable, down-to-earth personality he was before his debut. Yashiro wasn't a fool, though. He was aware of one aspect about his charge. Behind Ren's gentleness prowled—to put it bluntly—a dark, restless beast. It was a beast many were unaware of, and Yashiro himself chose to ignore it out of respect for the other man's privacy. Ren never allowed that beast to surface and interfere with his work, and that alone was more than enough for Yashiro. As for what that beast consisted of, Yashiro wasn't sure. He'd only seen flickers of that darkness before.

It was sufficient for him to simply realise that it should stay caged.

The manager, dressed in a brown, pinstripe suit, relaxed against the leather of the passenger seat, staring listlessly at the streets and buildings flying past the car window. His hands were on the suitcase on his lap.

"You know the whole cast of Dark Moon are celebrating your win, right?" Yashiro asked. "You're the only one not present at your own party."

Ren's dark brow furrowed from where he sat by the wheel. "They are throwing a celebration as well today?" he inquired. "Was the festivity after the awards show not enough for them?"

Yashiro folded his arms. "I hate to shock you, but most winners of the Star Awards tend to celebrate for _weeks_ after they win. It isn't easy, the award you got. Not everyone is a workaholic like you, you know. You didn't have to religiously return to your work schedule today. All the directors said we could take a break from filming."

Ren laughed quietly, large hands skillfully guiding the steering wheel. "I apologize, Yashiro-san, that I had to drag you along for work."

"I'm glad you know," Yashiro huffed. He became pensive. "Anyway, I think you should go for the party today. Momose-san personally texted me saying she wanted you to go."

"We do not have the time today." Ren sounded disinterested.

Yashiro glanced at the actor. For someone as clever and discerning as Ren, he did not seem to realise Momose's feelings for him. Or maybe he did, but chose not to even acknowledge it. Being such a famous film star's manager, Yashiro was, of course, very alert to Ren's love life. He had to. It was part of the job. The media was always lurking like hungry vultures to find out whom Ren dated, and Yashiro wanted to make sure nothing that could tarnish his name was revealed. However, Yashiro did feel a bit more relaxed because the public was so enamored with Ren that he would never be blamed if anything scandalous leaked. An example of this was several years ago, when Ren had once been rumored—it was actually untrue—to have an affair with a married actress. The media had tried to paint the actor in a poor light by stating he was a homewrecker, only to be slammed and rebuffed by millions of angry netizens. They sent hate mail to the tabloids, and composed death threats on social media to the married woman. While Yashiro had been relieved Ren's reputation remained unblemished, he did feel sorry for the married actress.

_Her_ reputation was in shreds.

"We do have time," Yashiro said. "I mean, we can squeeze enough time for the party, and you know it."

Ren sighed. "I am not keen on partying today."

"Oh, be honest," Yashiro grinned. "You just can't be bothered to meet Momose-san and the rest."

Ren's dark eyes glittered amusedly. "Please do not put words in my mouth."

"I know Kyoko-chan is your entire world now, and all that," Yashiro sighed dreamily, "But try to entertain the other girls a tiny bit too. You're a star. You need to network."

The car slowly came to a halt by a red traffic light.

"By the way," Yashiro added, sobering. "I forgot to tell you. Kijima-kun spoke to Kyoko-chan last night."

Ren's exotic eyes darkened further, so that they looked almost black. "Ah," he murmured. "Yes."

"He was trying to scare her, that's what," Yashiro explained disapprovingly. "He told her that you abandoned all your past lovers before her, and she might be next."

Ren's perfect mouth was twisted in a taut line, but he said nothing.

"Sometimes I wonder what on earth goes through Kijima's head," Yashiro griped. "The two of you have always been friends, but the way he acts—"

"What else did he say to her?"

Yashiro blinked at the flat tone of Ren's deep baritone voice.

"I can't really remember now," he said, thinking hard. Then his head jerked. "Oh! Right. He called you a… hunter, or something. Anyway he made you out to be something like a predator, and told her to watch out."

"I see," Ren answered softly. His obsidian eyes were coolly distant. Then the traffic lights flashed back to green, and he smoothly maneuvered the gears of his SUV so that it set off again.

Yashiro glanced at the actor. It was, as usual, hard to tell what he was thinking.

A predator? Yashiro privately agreed. Ren rarely acted as one, but he had the makings of a predator. He was of towering build; he was an alpha male possessing incredible physical prowess, and his shrewd intelligence was unnerving sometimes. The dark beast lurking within him _was_ the embodiment of a predator. However, Ren tamed that beast well. As far as Yashiro knew, he didn't allow himself to behave dangerously towards others, despite the fact that, perhaps, a part of him wanted to. Did Kijima call him a predator because he, too, was aware of said beast caged within Ren's inner thoughts? Kijima was a pretty sharp fellow, and like Ren, he was mysterious and enigmatic. Yashiro had always thought this was why he and Ren were on such good terms. The two of them had similarities, and although they were rather guarded with each other, there was a form of mutual respect between them. However, after what had happened yesterday, Yashiro wondered if this respect would last. Still, Ren was no fool. He knew that Kijima couldn't be trusted from the very beginning.

"What do you intend to do about this?" Yashiro wanted to know. "Kyoko-chan looked rather frightened afterwards, you know. It can't be good for her or the baby."

"Some things will have to be remedied," Ren answered calmly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yashiro grumbled.

He had always noticed that there was a veil of mystery surrounding Ren and Kyoko's relationship. He wasn't sure what, but there was something that more than met the eye about them. Ren wasn't dishing, and as much as Yashiro wanted to know, he decided to refrain himself from asking. Kyoko looked happy enough most of the time (save for last night), and Yashiro was just glad Ren could finally settle down with a decent girl. While it was true there was a huge gap in status between them, Yashiro had faith in Kyoko that she was not using Ren for his wealth or fame. Yashiro could tell she was in love with him; there was this dazed, passionate expression in her eyes whenever he was around. He doubted if Kyoko even knew how starstruck she looked in Ren's presence. It was feverish, the depth at which she seemed to feel for him. Ren's relationship with Kyoko was not like his previous ones; there was a deep intensity between them that made even Yashiro unsettled.

Yashiro hadn't forgotten how, a year ago, Ren had asked him to investigate this strange, unknown girl then.

"Well," he said, since it was clear Ren wasn't answering, "Just make sure you take good care of her and the baby. You're going to be a father soon already, so you gotta be more careful."

The corners of Ren's flawless lips rose. "I know."

His manager slyly watched him.

"Look at you," Yashiro quipped gleefully. "You're positively glowing! Are you this excited to become a father?"

"Hmmm." His lips rose further upwards, and his eyes gleamed curiously.

Yashiro's eyes grew round behind his glasses. "Also… Have you decided who's going to become the baby's godfather?"

Ren chuckled. "Not yet."

"Well, I don't mean to brag," Yashiro bragged, "but I would make an amazing godfather. People say I'm great with kids."

"Of course."

"Not to mention we've been friends for so long, you and I."

"Of course," Ren agreed merrily.

"So… Will you make me—?"

"No."

Yashiro gaped, then sulked.

Ren glanced at him, his chuckles rising into rich laughter.

"I jest, Yashiro-san," he murmured mirthfully. "Please don't be too displeased with me."

Yashiro glared. "I can't believe you messed with me like that. I was so disappointed!"

"I can't decide anything for now," Ren said gently. "As you might expect, I need to discuss your suggestion with the child's mother first."

Yashiro gave him a peeved look. "Kyoko-chan will totally approve of me as a godfather!"

Ren glanced at his phone, which was perched upright on a tiny stand atop the dashboard of the car.

"Perhaps not," he replied wryly. "I do not think she is looking for a paternal figure right now."

Yashiro also stared at the smartphone, distracted. Ren had been glancing at it for some time now while he drove, and upon taking a closer look the startled manager realised that the screen was switched on, where the GPS display was showing.

That was strange. Ren was a driver with an uncanny sense of direction. He never needed a GPS to guide him, not even when the filming locations of his various projects were at the most distant and unknown of places. All he had to do was read up the address, and he was good to go. This was the first time Yashiro had seen him using GPS on his phone.

Yashiro frowned. He could see a small cursor moving around on the GPS display, and it was in a street within Tokyo that was most certainly not where he and Ren currently were.

Comprehension dawned.

"Hold on a minute!" he exclaimed. "You're—you're tracking someone!"

Ren made no move to confirm or deny it.

"But how is that even—?" Yashiro's jaw dropped. "Did you download some GPS tracker app into your phone? But this means you downloaded it into a second phone too. Whose phone are you tracking?"

"I wonder who?" Ren said sardonically. He reached out and turned his phone off.

Yashiro's brown eyes nearly popped from his sockets and into the lenses of his glasses. "Are you tracking Kyoko-chan?"

Ren did not reply.

"But… how?" Yashiro sputtered. "Are you saying she agreed to let you track her? She let you install the app in her phone?"

"How should I put it?" Ren drawled mockingly. "Kyoko was slumbering rather deeply last night. She was very tired."

"I want to ask what tired her out, but I'd rather not know," Yashiro muttered. He stared accusingly at Ren. "So she was asleep when you did it? Are you insane, Ren? You're tracking someone without their consent—"

Ren's onyx eyes flashed. "That so-called someone you are referring to is the mother of my child. I am tracking a woman who carries my flesh and blood within her. She is fragile, and she is delicate. I wish to watch over her. Is that so wrong?"

Yashiro was taken aback. It was hard to argue with that. There was something very compelling and hypnotic in the way Ren spoke—his voice silky, calm, and undeterred as he vocalized his points—that made it hard to confront him.

"Well," he said weakly. "You should at least let her know you're watching over her."

Ren smiled, a humorless curve of the sculpted lips.

"An agreement was made between Kyoko and I, Yashiro-san," he said levelly. "While I believe she will not break her side of the agreement, I require some method of precaution; a backup plan, if you will. If not, I would be at a complete disadvantage."

"Agreement?" Yashiro echoed. "What agreement?"

"An agreement," Ren responded, unruffled, "that she will return home tonight."

"What do you mean?"

There was a short silence, broken only by the luxurious hum of the car engine.

Ren glanced at the time displayed in digital letters on the dashboard and prompted, rather abruptly, "When is the party?"

Yashiro blinked, annoyed at the change of topic, but grudgingly decided to entertain him. "Soon. You mean you want to go now?"

"I figured we should get it over and done with," Ren responded thoughtfully, turning the steering wheel. "We can drop by for perhaps a few minutes before we leave."

Yashiro nodded sourly, understanding that this was a form of Ren's means to dismiss the earlier subject. Much as he disliked it, he knew there was no way he could force Ren to tell him what was going on if he was unwilling.

As he listed the address—a five-star hotel called the Blue Princess Hotel—of the party to Ren, a thought swept across his mind.

It seemed the dark beast was not as caged as he had previously thought.

* * *

Kyoko stared ominously at Sho from her side of the table, and he stared back from where he sat opposite.

The air was thick with tension.

Kyoko could only curse her bad luck. Still, it was nobody's fault but her own. She had completely forgotten about Sho this morning, and had happily returned to her apartment without considering the possible danger of his laying in wait there. When she saw him, she had tried to flee, but her limp made it near impossible. After grabbing hold of her scarf, he had boldly tied a knot and gagged her with it—in broad daylight!—and then scooped her up, before making his way back to his car to stuff her body inside it like a hostage, and to slam her briefcase into the boot of the car. Her muffled cries went unheard by the neighborhood, and her kicks and punches were no match against his superior strength. Kyoko also hadn't dared to exert too much of her own strength at him (although she was sure it was futile all the same against his way more powerful physique); she was afraid that it might affect the baby. She didn't know much about pregnancies, but she at least knew expectant mothers weren't supposed to be involved in anything too violent, and that included being abducted.

And here she was, sitting in Sho's apartment (the same apartment she had often visited back during their relationship), glowering. He had carried her over his broad shoulder from the parked car—driven by his chauffeur towards where he lived—and took the lift into his apartment, ignoring her muffled, incoherent yells that he release her. She was sure he knew exactly what she was saying despite not being able to understand her. The moment he removed the gag and lowered her onto the couch, she had instantly bolted to the door, only to find that it had automatically locked after shutting behind him. Kyoko had screamed at Sho, demanding for the digital passcode to unlock the door, but he ignored her. After a couple more rounds of screaming while he boredly placed his hands over his pierced ears, she gave up, coughing. Her throat felt dry and hoarse.

"I'll report you to the police!" Kyoko wheezed, reaching into the pocket of her jeans. "You'll be arrested for assault and kidnap—_where's my phone?_"

He dangled the device adroitly from his ringed fingers. "I pick-pocketed it," Sho said matter-of-factly.

Before Kyoko could lunge at him and attempt to murder him, Shoko, his beautiful, tall manager, had appeared from one of the rooms, looking confused and weary. Dressed in nothing but a night gown and slippers (she looked like a lingerie supermodel, with her long blonde hair glossy and loose around her shoulders), she doubled over in shock when she saw a disheveled Kyoko, and then turned to Sho, demanding what was going on. Sensing a ray of hope for her escape, Kyoko began spewing the list of horrendous crimes Sho had committed against her just minutes ago. Shoko instantly looked horrified at what Sho had done, but instead of forcing him to let Kyoko go, she kindly asked the latter to 'rest here and relax with some tea and buns first to make up for his roughness', adding that they rarely had guests over in Sho's apartment, save for Mimori. Kyoko wanted to refuse (she was a hostage, not a guest), but Shoko was such a nice, warm person unlike her charge, and she decided she would stay just to appease Shoko for maybe half an hour or so. Fuming at Sho, she ignored him as she followed Shoko to the dining table, and sat down.

The woman shrieked and jumped when a piece of fabric was abruptly thrown in her face. It took her a second to realise it was her scarf. Angrily plucking the fluttering material from her face, she seethed at Sho, baring her teeth in rage. "What was that for, you dickhead?"

"Cover that obscenity on your neck," Sho countered, glaring right back at her. He had seated himself on the opposite side of the table, and ran an irritated hand through his blonde spiky hair. "It's repulsive."

Kyoko's cheeks turned as red as blood. She had completely forgotten about the love bite Ren had left! Oh, god. Did this mean Shoko—who was in the kitchen at the moment—had seen it too? The manager hadn't said anything, but she possessed more tact than Sho, anyway.

Rapidly Kyoko coiled the soft scarf—the same one he had used to gag her—around her neck, her heart pounding in embarrassment.

"Did _he_ give you that repulsive mark?" Sho sneered. He looked a mixture of condescension and resentment.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Kyoko said haughtily.

"You'd better start fessing up," Sho said dangerously. "I saw the awards show on TV last night. We have a lot to talk about, you and I."

His words sent a wave of bitter déjà vu crashing into Kyoko's head. Ren had said the exact same thing to her the night before. Probably not in the same wording, but the meaning was similar enough.

She clenched her teeth at the frustration of it all.

"What is wrong with you men?" Kyoko raged, slamming her hand on the table. "I don't owe any of you an explanation! Am I some kind of a child? Do I need permission for everything I do? This is a free country, and I can do what I want, and it will be absolutely none of your damned business, Sho!"

"It is my damned business when my ex hooks up with my biggest rival!" Sho shouted back, eyes blazing sapphire fire. "You think I don't know that you're doing this to rub it in my face?"

"Oh my god," Kyoko snapped incredulously. "How conceited can you get? Do you honestly think that everything revolves around you?"

"Yes," Sho said arrogantly. "I do think that way. Deal with it."

Kyoko's mouth fell open. "You—you—" she spluttered.

"So start explaining now," Sho said coldly. "Were you staying with Tsuruga Ren? Is that why you've been missing for the past month?"

She spat contemptuously at him. "Wouldn't you want to know."

"Yes, I do," Sho retorted. "I'm disgusted that you hooked up with that piece of shit stain—"

Kyoko got up from her chair, and stalked right over to where he was seated, the ends of her scarf fluttering. His curious expression turned into an alarmed and shocked one when she violently grabbed fistfuls of his leather coat, and tugged him closer towards her, so that her face—scrunched up in fury—was mere inches from his.

"If you dare to call Tsuruga-san that again," she hissed viciously, "I'll carve your face out with a knife."

He stared back at her, blue eyes wide and taken off-guard.

Kyoko couldn't help it. The moment Sho had addressed Ren using such a term, a streak of anger and hatred had risen and bubbled intently inside her abdomen, rendering Kyoko in a near murderous state. She couldn't help being so protective of Ren. He was everything Sho was not: kind, gentle, understanding, humble, and loving. Sho would never be able to grasp those traits, because, unlike Ren, he was too caught up in himself to care for the others around him. Wasn't that why he had kidnapped Kyoko? It was to confront her for wounding that precious pride of his. It was all about himself. It had probably never even once crossed his mind that Kyoko was together with Ren because she loved the actor, and not because she wanted to rub it in Sho's face. Of course, in Sho's perspective, it was unforgivable for him to see her with another man, but it wasn't unforgivable for him to cheat on her with Mimori. His twisted, egomaniacal logic made her want to laugh and sneer at the same time. How could she have once loved him?

"Kyoko-chan?" Shoko's wary voice spoke hesitantly.

Kyoko hastily let go of Sho's black coat—bits of extravagant ebony feathers from it floated past her fingers—and turned to face Shoko. The other woman was carrying a tray, where three steaming mugs of tea and a plate of hot cross buns lay.

"Is everything okay?" Shoko asked in concern. She placed the tray onto the table. "Please don't fight anymore. Sho, stop aggravating Kyoko-chan. You know she is... well, in a delicate condition right now."

Kyoko flinched at the words, and she stole a glance at Sho. His lips were now pressed in an icy line.

"Which brings me to another point," he said softly. "Was Tsuruga Ren telling the truth during his speech last night? Did he really knock you up?"

"No comment," Kyoko answered tersely, lowering herself back onto the chair. She glanced politely at Shoko, who sat down right next to her by the dining table. "Shoko-san, thank you for the tea."

"You're welcome," Shoko said kindly, handing her a mug. She smiled, changing the subject. "Speaking of last night, you looked so beautiful at the Star Awards. I almost didn't recognise you."

Kyoko rested her hands uneasily over the comforting heat of the mug, but didn't drink it. "Thank you."

"You didn't recognise her," Sho pointed out disdainfully to his manager. "It wasn't until I recognised her myself that you did."

Shoko glared at him. "Sho—"

"It shocked me yesterday, you know," Sho went on, unperturbed, "that a plain girl like our Kyoko could still hope to look good. I suppose makeup is pretty miraculous, huh?"

"Oh, shut up," Kyoko said, through gritted teeth.

"I don't want to," he bit petulantly back at her. "I'm pretty pissed at you right now. I want to make you feel as miserable as you should feel."

Kyoko's skinny hand tightened over the handle of her mug. "You're a sick son of a bitch."

"How about you?" Sho rebutted icily. "Tell me, Kyoko. Judging from that sickening mark on your neck—" Kyoko blanched. "—I'm guessing you've been spreading your legs for Tsuruga Ren throughout the past month?"

Her cheeks caught on fire.

"Sho, stop it," Shoko said sharply. "Don't be so rude."

"I'm not being rude, I'm being factual," Sho said curtly. "Look at her. That cardigan she's wearing. Those jeans. The scarf. They're all branded items. There's no way she could have afforded all those by herself." He jabbed a heavily ringed finger at Kyoko. "You're Tsuruga Ren's personal whore, aren't you? What, is he your sugar daddy now?"

Kyoko shot him a scathing look. It wasn't true. Yes, Ren had bought her many gifts, but she did earn her own keep to some extent. She cooked homemade dinners for him, and used the money from her own salary as a part-time social worker to purchase the groceries and ingredients to make said dinners. Alright, perhaps otherwise she did rely on him financially, which was why her usually full-time job had now dwindled into a part-time obligation. Moving into Ren's home had helped lessen her monetary burden significantly; she no longer had to worry about paying utility bills for her own apartment (or his house). Ren had often told her that she need not continue working as a social worker—the tough, strenuous demands of her dealing with dysfunctional families made him worry—but she loved doing what she did too much to give it up. Besides, she was never the type to become unemployed and allow someone to support her entirely; she always made sure she did what she could to earn her keep, and often refused to let him take her out to posh restaurants to dine.

"How about you?" Kyoko demanded, incensed. "Who are you to call me a whore when you're pretty much a manslut yourself?"

Sho curled his lip sneeringly. "Don't call me a manslut when your sugar daddy is one too."

Kyoko stood up, pounding her clenched fist on the table. "Tsuruga-san is not a manslut! Don't you dare call him names—"

"Well, isn't someone possessive?" Sho taunted. "I'm sorry to rain on your parade, but your precious _Tsuruga-san_ has slept with tons of women before you. More than I have, maybe."

Kyoko's head jerked backwards, as if he had physically burnt her with his statement.

"Oh, looks like I struck a nerve," Sho jeered. "Are you going to cry? I know it hurts, but that's the truth. You're just one of many in his bed, Kyoko. So quit parading around with the illusion that you're special to Tsuruga Ren, and leave him now."

"Sho," Shoko said in disapprobation. "Stop it."

Kyoko took a deep breath, and then stared at the singer straight into the eye, making sure he saw the conviction in her countenance.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

The cockiness in his visage faltered for a brief second. "What?"

"I said it doesn't matter," Kyoko repeated tightly. Her mind—the rational side of her—was screaming at her to stop, but she couldn't. Her lips formed the words—words that came straight from her heart. "He can have slept with all the women in the world, but he belongs to me now. He's mine."

Both singer and manager appeared stunned; they were speechless for a moment.

And then Sho cracked his mouth open again.

"Are you insane?" he asked disbelievingly. "Do you honestly believe that Tsuruga Ren belongs to you? Do you think—let me get this straight…" He laughed mirthlessly. "Do you actually believe that you're going to be the last woman in his bed?"

Kyoko said softly, with a confidence she wasn't sure she felt, "I do. Because he's not like you, Sho."

Maybe she was just making it up to keep her pride intact in front of Sho. She wasn't even certain herself. A turmoil of conflicting emotions went rampage in her tightening chest. She wanted to believe in what she was saying, but common sense warned her not to behave as recklessly. Yes, Ren was not like Sho, but everyone knew he was still a notorious playboy. As respectful as he might be towards women (a contrast against Sho, who was rather callous towards his lovers), Kyoko was mutinously aware that his bedmates came in impressive numbers. Netizens online liked to call his past lovers the 'vast harem of the Emperor of the Night'. Many actresses had occasionally been involved in malicious cat-fights on-set as a bid to vie for his attention. Ren was famous for never picking favorites; when asked in interviews which of his exes had made the biggest impression on him, he always said that they had all been lovely women, but never named one that stood out. People said he was simply playing fair, but this only spurred the determination of women—or the current member of his harem—to try to impress him as the special one that 'stood out'.

"Well, you're wrong," Sho said acidly. "He's going to dump you sooner or later. He's just like me. We're men. We're rotten bastards, and you had better get used to it." He leaned forward, so that the exotic feathers of his coat brushed against the edge of the table. "Did you know he once slept with Mimori too?"

Kyoko took a sharp inhale of breath. She suddenly remembered what Mimori had told her during the Star Awards—that she shared a common mutual form of relation with her.

They were both exes of their current lovers.

"W—When?" Kyoko asked shakily before she could stop herself, struggling to catch air.

"Some time last year," Sho said, satisfaction returning to his sky blue eyes as he watched her composure begin to crumble once more.

"That's impossible!" Kyoko fired at him. "Tsuruga-san was single the whole of last year!"

"Yeah, because he wasn't _dating_ anyone," Sho retorted impatiently. "No one knew he'd been privately sleeping around with Mimori. Haven't you heard of fuck buddies, Kyoko? Don't tell me you're still an innocent, dumbass little girl."

The small frame of her body jolted at the crudeness of his wording. It felt like he had lashed at her with a whip.

Shoko said, "Sho—"

"They met," the singer cut in evenly, "when they were both shooting some stupid commercial together. He was all over her, as she with him, and they spent a couple nights together."

"Why are you telling me this?" Kyoko snarled at him, aggrieved. "I get it. He slept with a lot of people in the past. What's your point?"

"I'm trying to get to it, but you keep interrupting me," Sho snapped.

"Enough, Sho," Shoko intervened disapprovingly. "You're only making it worse." He simmered at her with an annoyed scowl, but surprisingly didn't argue.

The manager sighed and gazed apologetically at Kyoko. "Listen, Kyoko-chan. I don't normally agree with Sho about these things, but hear us out about this, alright? I'll explain."

"What is it?" Kyoko wanted to know wearily.

"About Mimori and Tsuruga-san," Shoko said. She glanced at Sho, who was now staring idly at his phone and pretending to ignore them. "This is what Mimori told us. She was very madly in love with him then, you know. When Mimori told Tsuruga-san that she wanted to pursue a proper relationship with him, he rejected her. Being a rather… proud and headstrong girl, she took it as a personal insult. In her point of view he was questioning that she wasn't desirable enough."

Kyoko could picture that. Mimori was similar to Sho in the sense that they were both proud people; no wonder they clicked well as a couple. They did not take rejection well. They did the rejecting, not the other way around. Sho was a clear indication of that; he had been furious at Kyoko and then _abducted_ her for becoming Tsuruga Ren's newest bedmate, all because of his wounded pride. Mimori might not be able to go as far as to abduct Ren, but she definitely would have retaliated against him in some other way. She was infamous—judging from past relationships—for being a rather spiteful and terrifying lover when scorned. What was Ren thinking, accepting her in his bed and then rejecting her? He definitely know of the dark rumors surrounding Mimori; anyone in showbiz was aware of the many tabloid articles penned in regards to this subject. Granted, a powerful man like him would not be daunted by a woman, but was she worth the hassle?

Her stomach churned as awful jealousy struck. Had Ren been so taken with Mimori's beauty that he had slept with her anyway, irregardless of her unpleasant temperament when crossed?

"Mimori said," Shoko continued carefully, "that she was determined to prove him wrong, that he would regret leaving her. She told him that she would make him sorry—that she was going to show him that he was making a huge loss by leaving her."

Kyoko swallowed hard.

"And Tsuruga-san," Shoko elaborated, "told her to do as she wished. He told her that he no longer felt anything for her, and he apologized."

"As you know, for a woman to hear that, it can be quite… agonizing. Determined to provoke some jealousy from Tsuruga-san—to prove, more than anything, to herself that he still felt something for her—she went and did the only thing she could: she seduced his number one rival."

Kyoko gasped.

No. No. It couldn't be.

"And that's how Mimori and I came about," Sho concluded calmly, looking up from his phone. He had been listening the whole time. "Now you know."

Kyoko told herself to breathe. She had to calm down. It was just a string of coincidences; a series of unfortunate events. Tsuruga-san didn't know that she had been dating Sho last year, anyway. He didn't even know who Kyoko was last year. The first time they had met was at Sho's party the following year. It wasn't his fault; he hadn't told Mimori to go after Sho. Granted, he was aware of her dangerous temper and ornery characteristics, but that didn't mean anything. It wasn't as if he could predict what Mimori would do. Skilled and experienced as he might be with women, there was no way he could read their mind. Besides, it took two hands to clap. Mimori might have made the first move on Sho, but the most important—and crushing—part was that the singer had reciprocated and then pursued sexual relations with her. He hadn't tried to explain himself to Kyoko; in fact, he had rather bluntly told her they were over, and that Mimori had taken her place.

It was the memory of her heartbreak that made her choke. She no longer felt anything for Sho, but she remembered how desolate she had been upon discovering his infidelity. She had tossed and turned and cried many sleepless nights. She refused to eat. She refused to function.

She hadn't wanted to live anymore.

It was a wake-up call, really. Even if Mimori hadn't come along, another woman would have eventually taken Kyoko's place. Of that she was certain.

Sho suddenly stiffened as he stared back down at his phone, and his jaw visibly tightened.

"What is it?" Shoko inquired. She straightened up, and craned her neck over to see what he was looking at.

She tensed as her eyes raked the phone screen.

"What?" Kyoko said dully, without any genuine interest. "Did Mimori text you?"

Sho and his manager exchanged looks, heavy with a meaning she couldn't grasp.

Wordlessly, the singer lifted his phone, facing the screen towards her.

"I'm not interested," she commented acerbically.

"Kyoko," Sho said quietly, his voice, for the first time since their meeting today, devoid of hostility. "I think you should take a look."

The girl narrowed his eyes at him, and after a few seconds of reluctant contemplation, grudgingly stomped over so that her face was closer to the phone screen.

Her airways suddenly constricted.

It was a tabloid article he had been reading. The headlines stood out in bold, black letters:

"_**TSURUGA REN AND ITSUMI MOMOSE: CAUGHT KISSING OFF-SCREEN IN FRONT OF THE BLUE PRINCESS HOTEL THIS MORNING"**_

Kyoko's skin turned cold as the morbid words spun around her head, imprinting themselves into her retinas. She wanted to wrap her hands over her eyes, to shut everything out.

The photographs, just published a few hours ago, were undeniable.

Ren's tall figure stood outside the crystal glass doors leading to a hotel lobby. Dressed in a velvet coat, his dark hair was elegantly tussled.

He was caught in an embrace with Momose; her slender bare arms were wrapped around his dignified neck, and the large, generous mounds of her breasts—nearly spilling out of the low neckline of her black cocktail dress—rested snugly against his chest. The glossy, golden locks of her mane painted the sides of his cheeks.

That wasn't all. The photograph on Sho's phone screen captured an angle which laid bare a sight she never wanted to see.

Momose's lips—plump, soft, and starkly scarlet—were pressed intimately against Ren's.

Kyoko stumbled away from Sho. Her knees buckled.

She could hear the singer's alarmed voice calling her name; it sizzled like background static in her ears.

Dizziness flooded her temples.

She gasped. She was dreaming. Yes. It was all a dream. This couldn't be true.

Sho had taken out a second phone. Hers. In his grip, she could see that her phone screen was lit, and that an incoming call from a contact name filled the display.

Tsuruga Ren.

_Do you actually believe that you're going to be the last woman in his bed?_

_I do. Because he's not like you, Sho._

Darkness swam into her vision. Her body felt weak and helpless, and her legs gave way.

And then she knew no more.

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N:** Next chapter, Sho vs. Ren.


	10. Chapter 10

_:Chapter 10:_

Itsumi Momose sat alone in her dressing room within the headquarters of her entertainment agency, sipping a glass of wine. Her manager and publicist were somewhere outside, dealing with the rabid storm of the media and reporters all around Japan. The party—thrown by the cast of Dark Moon to celebrate Ren's win—had abruptly broken up on a stunned note after journalists had caught wind of her kiss with the actor at the Blue Princess Hotel. Momose's management team had hastily brought her away in order to keep her protected from the madness that ensued all over the country amidst the hungry press. Momose had barely uttered an apology to her supporting cast members before she was whisked off in her limousine; the hasty exit from the hotel and the car door promptly shut her off from the shocked faces of said co-stars. Fuji, her manager, while not entirely displeased, had informed Momose that she was to keep a low-profile for now.

As for Ren, he had vanished to goodness knows where with his own manager.

She stared flatly at her gorgeous reflection in the dressing mirror for a minute, the planes of her sculptured face beautifully contoured. Crimson lips slowly rose into a smile.

Kijima's advice was sound, after all.

Not even Ren had expected her kiss, as clever and shrewd as he was. It was surprising, since his guard was always up, and that included during the occasions where he was on his best, most cordial behavior around the many people in his life. Momose was sure of that: he was a man whose kindness and amiableness belied the cold calculation behind each of his actions. Every smile at every person was to reap a form of benefit. No action was put to waste. He was a people pleaser, and a damned good one too. As an actor, it was important. He wasn't just a pretty face with a flair for acting; he was also a very crafty businessman. And because he was manipulative under his smiling mask, this meant he was also very receptive towards other similar manipulations directed at him, which happened often, as it does in show business. Momose had learnt wearily to live with it, and she left the politics for Fuji to take care of. Ren, on the other hand (according to Fuji), was always alert. He made use of those manipulations and turned them around so that the wielders became victims, and _he_ became the benefiter.

Recently, however, Momose noticed that he was less cautious than before. Ren, with all his perceptiveness, had not noticed her feelings towards him, despite her many hints (occasionally asking Ren if he was free for a casual dinner together, or asking Ren's manager Yashiro if he was interested to let his charge join her on other projects, to which he apologized that Ren had already signed up for some of his own, much to her dismay), and she wasn't sure if he was putting on a nonchalant act, or if genuinely, he hadn't sensed it. There was something in his demeanor lately that made him appear even more distant than usual, as if there were secret thoughts in his astute mind that she wasn't privy to. Often back during the filming of Dark Moon she caught him talking to someone over the phone during breaks, or sending messages. Momose had assumed he was merely communicating with a friend of some sort. She hadn't assumed it was a woman, as Dark Moon's filming was demanding (there was no time for romantic dates, unless he had them late at night after tedious working hours), and he had been reported as single for a while then.

Her assumptions were put to a massive halt after his famous announcement at the Star Awards.

She had been beyond shocked, not to mention extremely jealous. Who was that strange woman—pretty as she might be during the awards show last night—and how on earth had she captured Ren's devoted attention all along? So what if she had a pretty face? This line of business was filled with pretty faces. Ren could enjoy his share of beautiful women anywhere in all corners of showbiz. What made this common woman stand out? She was poor, and was also not from a sophisticated, well-known family. She could have been anyone randomly walking the streets, albeit with a reasonably attractive face.

It was all a horrible mistake.

After getting over her shock, Momose had acted fast. Kijima had advised her to initiate the kiss beforehand, assuring her that with Ren's rabid fanbase, the odds would be turned in Momose and Ren's favor.

He was right.

Tales were already being made up after witnessing the kiss between them. According to what the news had reported all over the internet, Momose and Ren had been in a secret relationship all along since the filming of Dark Moon. This was the story the media had concocted. They reported that the unknown female civilian—also known as the mystery woman he had brought as his date last night at the Star Awards—was a devious wench who had used a baby as a way to drag Ren away from Momose, and to tear them apart. This wasn't uncommon; many women outside of the entertainment industry liked to claim they were pregnant with the child of a male star to force him to provide for them financially, or to garner some attention for themselves. The news went on to say that Ren was too honorable and respectable a man to abandon a woman who claimed she was carrying his child, and made him out to be a pitiful victim caught in the civilian woman's greedy ploy. They also said that Momose, who was Ren's true lover, was heartbroken regarding the civilian's schemes, which included forcing Ren to marry her as soon as possible using the baby as an excuse.

Ren's fanbase was too vast. No one would dare report anything scandalous about him, and even if they did, his obsessed fans would turn it around so that he was the victim, and never the guilty. The tabloids had learned fast. They didn't want to suffer backlash from angry readers again. This meant that this time, they were going to fabricate stories that sat well with fans, painting Ren, Japan's heartthrob and sweetheart, in a sympathetic light.

Momose smiled. The citizens of Japan now empathized with the togetherness of herself and Ren, and had outcasted his lover. Things were as planned. In fact, it had turned out even better.

Her smile slowly faded, however, when she thought back to Ren's reaction to her sudden kiss.

The red nails of her free hand clenched into her palm over the clustered surface of her vanity.

The room door opened.

"Momose?"

The buxom actress stiffened, and straightened up in her plush, velvet armchair, forcing herself to smile softly as she lowered her half-filled wineglass onto the table. Drawn from her thoughts, Momose glanced down at herself. She presently wore a large mink coat over her revealing, ebony cocktail dress (to protect herself from the cold of the AC), and her gold hair was tightly held up in multiple hair curl rollers. Diamonds gleamed from her ears and white neck.

Fuji Yuki appeared, dressed in her usual, impeccable pantsuit. She hastily shut the dressing room door with an air of secrecy, clutching her smartphone.

"There's a private call for you," she whispered, going over to the actress. "The caller's currently on hold. You need to take this."

Momose's eyebrows went up. "Who is it?"

"It's Juliena Hizuri."

Momose sucked in her breath sharply, and her gold head jerked incredulously.

Juliena Hizuri? _The_ Juliena Hizuri? One of the most beautiful women in Hollywood, and wife to Kuu Hizuri, the biggest action film star out there in Hollywood?

She and her husband were worldwide icons; they were the epitome of fame, success, and glamor. They were truly _stars_. The mere mention of their names—both etched on the Hollywood Walk of Fame—was enough to make any aspiring actor drown in awe. The power couple's legacy had paved a whole new generation of actors, actresses and models. Juliena, svelte, tall, and beautiful, was recognised as one of the world's top, most highly-paid supermodels, after all. She had retired a while ago, but remained to be an undefeatable legend in the modelling industry. No catwalk was the same without her. In fact, she had once worn a billion-dollar, diamond encrusted bikini for a very famous, much talked about photoshoot. No other model in history had been given such an honor.

What did one of the world's biggest stars want to talk to _Momose_ about?

"Yes," Momose said, slightly nervous. "Yes. I'll take the call."

"Remember," Fuji whispered. "Be on your best behavior. We can't afford to offend this woman."

Momose nodded, too anxious to reply. She cleared her throat quietly.

Fuji put the line on, then passed her the smartphone. Momose could see the manager's hand trembling slightly. This was pretty astonishing, since very little out there fazed the confident Fuji. Not even Momose's kiss with Ren, and the media storm that swiftly followed, had taken her off guard. However, Momose was too shaken herself to fully grasp the gravity of her situation as well.

"Hello?" she asked demurely, carefully making sure her voice was calm.

"Hello?" the woman on the other end spoke. Her voice was musical, mellow, and soft. There was a velvety quality to it that sounded familiar, as if Momose had heard it somewhere before, but she couldn't recollect exactly when, or from whom else she had heard it. "Is this Itsumi Momose?"

"Speaking," Momose said, swallowing. She glanced at Fuji, who had seated herself on another chair, watching her as she spoke on the phone.

"I don't know if you know me," the model murmured. "But my name is Juliena Hizuri—"

"Of course I know you, Mrs. Hizuri," Momose said at once, before she could help herself. As if anyone didn't know her! "I am such a huge fan of yours. It's an honor to even speak to you."

"Oh my." Juliena sounded flattered. "How sweet."

"Not at all," Momose replied respectfully. Ren wasn't the only person in the business who was good at pleasing others. "I was merely being honest."

"Ah," Juliena said, pleased. "Well, I must say I like honest people. They are rare in this business."

Momose allowed herself a tinkle of laughter. She still couldn't believe she was here, having a conversation with the legend Juliena Hizuri. "Yes."

"You must be wondering why I'm calling you out of nowhere," Juliena went on. "I apologize. After all, you must be very busy."

"I was," Momose answered, smiling. "But definitely not anymore."

"Oh, you're such a darling," Juliena cried in delight. "To be honest, I called you firstly to congratulate you about Dark Moon. I've watched that drama so many times. I'm a huge fan."

Momose blushed prettily. Juliena Hizuri had watched her drama! Still, it wasn't too shocking if she thought about it. Dark Moon was a ratings hit, and had become critically successful in the entire world, not just Japan, partially thanks to the powerful influence of leading man Tsuruga Ren's star power. However, to have such a famous person like Juliena watch it—and be a fan of it—was overwhelming. Not to mention Juliena had personally called to congratulate her about it! It made Momose's insides melt and her heart speed up. This was truly the pinnacle of her career; no awards won could make her as happy. Fuji arched a brow from where she sat upon seeing Momose's blush, then smiled approvingly, taking it as a good sign.

"Thank you so much," Momose uttered breathlessly, red-nailed hand idly pressing against the hem of her dress. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"You were amazing in it," Juliena praised. "And of course, that was Tsuruga Ren's first romance drama."

Something in the supermodel's husky, womanly voice altered when she mentioned Ren's name. Something strangely like pride, Momose noted confusedly.

What connection did Juliena Hizuri have with Ren?

"Yes, it was," the younger actress agreed, unsure where the conversation was heading to.

"Just today there has been a lot of…disturbing news breaking out," Juliena continued. Momose's stomach tightened suddenly. She wasn't sure how to process the unexpected change in topic—the change, she suspected, that signified Juliena's true motives for calling, whatever it was. "I have been in this business for a long time myself, and I know better than to trust the tabloids. But if by any wild chance that it is true… Well, I thought to myself that I must know. But I will never take a tabloid newspaper's word for it. The reporters are nothing but liars."

Momose was slightly confused. Yes, the fanatical media storm and the news had shaken the world, but it was rather strange for a superstar like Juliena Hizuri to call her all the way from America just to breach such gossip topics. Granted, she was a fan of Dark Moon, but was the curiosity so much for Juliena that she had to call another actress to confirm the tabloid's stories? Being a huge star herself, Juliena had to be used to hearing fabricated tales about her private life, and about her husband, Kuu Hizuri. She was no stranger to gossip, and definitely knew that it was everywhere, not just about herself and Kuu. So what was so special about the gossip regarding Dark Moon's leading man and lady that she had to know the truth about? Was Kuu aware that his wife had called Momose regarding the news?

Did it have something to do with her strange connection with Tsuruga Ren?

"So I thought," Juliena said, "that I would ask directly from the source. I can't contact Ren, as it happens. But you see, if there is something I hate, it is greed. To use a pseudo pregnancy to force a famous man to provide for you, and to use it to put yourself in the spotlight is rather immoral, don't you think?"

"Yes," Momose murmured faintly, her blue eyes bright beneath her false lashes.

"I don't know if it is true—"

"It is," Momose said suddenly. "It's all true."

There was a short silence. Fuji stared at Momose, looking confused. It was no wonder, since she was only hearing Momose's side of the conversation, which didn't divulge a lot of information.

"You poor dear," Juliena spoke at last. Her voice was tender, but there was also a stirring of anger in it, though not, Momose was sure, directed at her. "It must be agonizing to have another woman use such inhumane means to steal your lover from you, isn't it?"

"It has not been easy," Momose said, letting a crack seep into her resigned tone for effect. Being an actress was not without its benefits. "Tsuruga-san has been pretending that what we share between the two of us never existed so as to meet the woman's demands."

"Disgraceful," Juliena said. "You must stay strong, my dear. Rotten, filthy creatures like that woman are everywhere."

"Thank you," Momose said gratefully. "You are very kind."

"And you are as charming and sweet as I thought you to be," Juliena responded gently. "Do not worry, my dear Momose. Your welfare in this matter will be seen to, if possible."

Momose blinked long, dark lashes, her free hand absently tugging at a glimmering blue sapphire stone around her neck. What did Juliena mean? As sympathetic as Juliena might be with her, it was strange for the supermodel to claim she would help Momose. They didn't even know each other, although Momose dared to conclude that a small friendship had now formed between the pair after the phone call.

Was it because of Juliena's own experience? Perhaps something similar had happened with Kuu before? Did some woman use the bait of a pregnancy to attempt to steal Kuu away from Juliena as well? (Still, Kuu was a very faithful and loyal man who was very much in love with his wife.) If so, Juliena was probably fueled by her own experience with this subject to want to help another actress in need. It was still peculiar though, since Momose was sure this happened very often with other celebrities in show business. Juliena couldn't possibly go around helping everyone who were victims of this, right? What made Momose so special? Was it just because she was the female lead of a drama Juliena liked? Or was it because this fiasco was more massive than any other case that had happened similarly—Ren was presently the biggest star in the world, after all—and had gone viral everywhere?

"Thank you," Momose said uncertainly.

"Now I must go," Juliena said. "There are urgent matters I must see to. But it was enjoyable talking to you, Miss Momose. Thank your manager for me. Perhaps we can see each other face-to-face one day."

"It would be an honor," Momose gasped. "Thank you for calling me. I will never forget this day."

"Oh, darling."

It took Momose a while to realise the supermodel had hung up.

The actress lowered the smartphone with long, manicured fingers, her pulse racing.

"What happened?" Fuji demanded immediately, standing up. "What did Juliena Hizuri want?"

A thoughtful pause.

"I'm not sure myself," Momose said slowly, pursing her scarlet lips. She placed the smartphone onto the dressing table, and then tugged at her mink coat in a self-assured manner. "But I am positive about one thing."

"What is it?"

"I believe…she is on my side now."

* * *

Sho stared at Kyoko's smartphone sitting in his ringed hand, then glanced in the direction of his guest room within the apartment, frowning in frustration, irritation, and worry as he contemplated his next move.

Things had not gone as he planned. The news that had broken the internet was completely unexpected; Sho was dumbfounded at the relevation. To his surprise, his first instinctive reaction was not triumph that he had proved Kyoko wrong (that Tsuruga Ren was a sick, unfaithful bastard just like all men after all), but rather anger.

_Anger._

What the fuck was happening? Sho might not know Tsuruga well, but he was sure of one thing, despite the contradiction in all his jibes and lies earlier towards Kyoko (which had been said just to aggravate her). Tsuruga Ren didn't cheat. He was too busy upholding that repulsive gentleman image of his to two-time a woman. If he had had taken a fancy towards someone else, he would make it clear to his current woman that they were over and then move on, rather than cheat. Meanwhile, Sho personally didn't really give a fart about this sort of rigmarole. Who had the time to inform the woman he was currently dating he no longer wanted her? If he saw another woman he liked, he'd sleep with her, regardless if he was single at that moment or not. Even after the deed was done, he wouldn't bother telling his girlfriend. Let her find out his infidelity herself through the tabloids, or whatever. Sho didn't want to put up with her tantrums when he told her. By the time she found out via the news, he would refuse all contact with her if she tried to approach him again. It wasn't worth the hassle of dealing with her anger. She could throw her tantrum somewhere else.

Tsuruga Ren had put in a lot of effort maintaining his annoyingly pristine image. Why cheat now? Something was off. There was more to this affair than met the eye.

But this wasn't the time to ruminate about that now.

Sho had instantly freaked when Kyoko had passed out. While he was not entirely unfamiliar with fainting women, it was still shocking and terrifying. Thank goodness Shoko was there, with her reassuring guidance and motherly instincts. Sho had dumped Kyoko's smartphone—which was vibrating from Tsuruga Ren's incoming call—onto the table, and then swiftly dived in to catch her before she hit the floor. It had done something bizarre to him the moment his arms surrounded the familiar yet also foreign body of his ex-lover. The same thing had ocurred when he had abducted and carried her earlier from her apartment block. She was startlingly tiny, he realised. Sho had become so accustomed to embracing the incredibly tall, willowy figures of models that Kyoko's petite stature sent his pulse tingling.

Shoko instantly urged him to lay the unconscious woman down onto the spacious bed in the guest room. The pair rushed to said room around the corner from the lounge, and Shoko hurriedly pushed open the door, letting him pass. After carefully lowering Kyoko's limp form under the sheets and making sure she was comfortable, Sho had made to call for the ambulance, but his manager stopped him.

"You can't," she hissed. "What is the press going to say if they find out an ambulance was sent to Fuwa Sho's house? I'm begging you, Sho! I don't want you to end up all over the news too!"

"Then we'll have to drive her to the hospital—"

"That's just as bad!" Shoko argued. She whipped out her phone, and began dialling furiously. "Look. I have some contacts. I'll send for a private doctor to come on here. He'll keep his mouth shut about this."

Sho groaned, running a ring-studded hand through his spiky blond hair, and glanced at an unmoving Kyoko on the bed. Her face was pale, but other than that, judging from the even rise and fall of her chest under the sheets, she was breathing pretty steadily. Her bronze locks were a mess on the pillows.

"Do you…" he swallowed. "Do you think she's okay?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it's just a bit of shock," Shoko said, still on her phone. "It's not uncommon for an expectant woman to pass out from shock."

Sho flinched at the word _expectant_.

Kyoko couldn't really be pregnant, right? This was insane. He knew she always liked children, but it had never ocurred to him that she might have any of her own one day, not even back when they had been dating. He didn't like kids, and would never talk about it with her. The mere notion of it made him uncomfortable. It meant commitment, and that was something he didn't want, not with any woman in the universe. So why was he feeling so angry?

The mere thought of Tsuruga Ren fathering the life in Kyoko's belly made him want to punch something. Who the fuck did Tsuruga Ren think he was? Who was he to take Kyoko away from Sho, and become the baby's father, which was Sho's initially rightful shoes to fill (not that he had ever wanted to fill them himself)? Who was he to knock Kyoko up, and then kiss someone else? Why was Kyoko even separated from Ren in the first place, with her luggage in tow as she headed back to her apartment for the first time in over a month? Had they fought? How long had the pair been together, anyway, under his nose? Sho gritted his teeth at the maelstrom of conflicting emotions in his chest. He couldn't even begin to identify them.

Emitting another incensed groan, he strode to the door, leaving Shoko with Kyoko, and walked back to the dining room. Picking up Kyoko's smartphone from the table, his sharp jaw worked when he saw there were two missed calls from Tsuruga Ren. Jamming his free hand decisively into the pocket of his black, feathered coat, he called the actor back with his other hand, lips pulled back severely as he placed the phone next to his pierced ear.

The other end picked up within less than a few rings.

"This is Fuwa Sho," he drawled viciously, before Ren could speak. "I noticed that you called my ex's phone? She's currently unavailable."

Silence.

A second later later Sho discreetly pressed the record button on his phone. The singer was determined to make a recording of this conversation where he would share the audio file with the world and prove to the stupid media (who was making the perfect Ren out to be the victim in this whole fiasco, rather than a wrongdoer) that Ren had indeed been unfaithful. All there was left to do was wring out some response from the actor.

Sho continued.

"She's going to be your ex soon too, right?" he taunted. "There's no way she's going to stay with you anymore. You cheated on a certain someone when you kissed that blonde woman today, didn't you? Itsumi Momose…whatever the blondie's name is. Or, if the press is right and you've really been secretly dating Blondie all along since you filmed that stupid drama, the fact that you got another woman pregnant in the first place means you also cheated on that Momose person, isn't it? Either way, you're still going to be labelled as a cheater, Ren."

More silence, save for the low, humming sounds of what seemed to be a vehicle's engine. The actor was driving, Sho thought, his acute hearing picking it up. He snickered inwardly. What was Ren going to do now?

He decided to stab at it further, to increasingly tarnish Ren's perfect image and expose his true colors to the world.

"How about Mimori?" he sneered maliciously. "During the time you claimed you were single, you fucked around with her, didn't you, and kept it from the press? So much for being the chivalrous gentleman everyone thinks you are—you dumped her and tossed her aside the moment you got bored of her. And no one believed Mimori's claims, because in everyone's mind, you're perfect, and she's infamous for being an overly spiteful and revengeful lover, isn't it?"

Sho's teeth glinted vindictively at the lack of response. Either way this was going to work. Ren's persistent silence and refusal to answer was a sign of his guilt, and it was going to become apparent in the recording. All the singer had to do was attach this audio recording with his social media accounts, and he was set. Everyone would hear it. And if fans didn't believe he was on the phone with Ren? Well, he would just show Ren's representatives the actor's contact number on his smartphone as evidence (he was going to transfer Ren's number from Kyoko's phone to his own). Everyone knew there was no way Sho would know Ren's private contact number. How could he? They were the exact opposite of friends and were famous for avoiding each other. So if Sho had managed to get Ren's personal number correctly somehow, this was definitely a cause of concern, and people would have to take the recording more seriously.

Tsuruga Ren's reputation was going to suffer.

"Well?" he prompted gleefully. "Nothing to say? Cat got your tongue?"

A pause.

Ren answered, so suddenly that Sho inhaled sharply.

"How odd," Tsuruga murmured silkily. "Throughout this whole time, I haven't understood a single word you said. What are you talking about?"

Sho clenched his fists angrily at the sound of the actor's unruffled, deep baritone voice. So that was how Ren wanted to play, huh?

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you fucking—"

"I am aware you dislike me, Fuwa," Tsuruga said politely. "You have displayed your animosity towards myself many times before. And I am also aware you are currently in a relationship with Miss Mimori. Has your dislike towards myself given you the idea I once slept with your current lover? It is a little far-fetched, if you ask me. I would advise you to keep your irrational jealousy and insecurities to yourself."

Sho's long, enraged fingers clutched Kyoko's phone so hard he thought the metal casing would break.

"You—"

"Secondly," Tsuruga continued, undeterred, "I am sure there are things more intriguing to you than tabloid gossip regarding my private love life. Please don't misunderstand; I am flattered by your interest towards the women in my life, and I will most certainly consult your expertise if required. For that I extend my gratitude."

"Who do you think you fucking—"

"If you are done spewing profanities at me," Tsuruga said serenely, "I shall assume you no longer have anything worthwhile to contribute to this conversation. I hope you won't mind if I hang up now."

There was a click, and the other end went dead.

Sho gave a deep, agitated roar as he slammed Kyoko's phone onto the table. His livid blue eyes blazed and he savagely kicked a chair by the dining table with a black boot.

"What on earth are you yelling for?" Shoko appeared from one of the rooms, her own smartphone in hand. She had changed out of her dressing gown and now donned a white, buttoned blouse and a black pencil skirt, both articles of clothing which delineated her voluptuous frame nicely. She eyed Sho suspiciously. "What's going on?"

He fumed, refusing to answer.

Shoko sighed. "Fine. Don't tell me. Anyway, I called the doctor. He should be here in half an hour."

"Half an hour is way too long," Sho snarled bad-temperedly, going over to his couch with long-legged strides and then seating himself. "What if she expires before he reaches?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sho," Shoko said in exasperation. "Kyoko is fine; her vitals are stable. She merely fainted from shock is all. My mother used to have fainting spells herself when she was carrying me."

Sho didn't say anything after that, but kept silent and continued brooding, his face as black as thunder, on the couch. Minutes passed while Shoko checked her phone anxiously throughout. Very soon, five minutes became ten, and ten turned to twenty.

And then suddenly the device rang. She picked the call up hastily, and spoke urgently into it. "Hello? Is the doctor here?"

A second ticked by, and a look of astonishment crossed her features. She said something in assent and then hung up.

"What?" Sho demanded testily, tugging impatiently at one of the many extravagant feathers lining his coat. "The security called you, right? Is the doctor here or not?"

"It's not the doctor. The security downstairs said that Tsuruga Ren and his manager are at the lobby on the first floor. Ren just parked his car."

Sho leapt from the couch. _"What?"_

"You tell me." Shoko rubbed her face wearily. "I don't even know how he got our address. How did he track us, and how did he know Kyoko is here? He probably came because of her—"

"Stay here and take care of Kyoko." Sho bounded to the door and unlocked it, and it opened with a digital beep. "I'll deal with him."

"Sho! What do you mean? Surely you're not going to—"

Her voice was cut off by the sound of the door slamming.

Sho could feel adrenaline buzzing in his veins. His pulse raced and he squared his leather-clad shoulders as he sauntered down the corridor and stepped into the empty lift. He didn't know how Tsuruga Ren had discovered his address, but this was definitely a good thing. Sho was still smarting from the humiliation the actor had dealt him during the phone call, and he was eager to vent his fury on the other male. He clenched his large fists. He longed to mar the man's perfect face, and to tear apart his infallible mask. Just once—_once_—he wanted to see the other man with his guard down, to see him at his most vulnerable and to kick him until he fell to his fucking knees. In fact, the sign that Tsuruga was here indicated that Kyoko did mean something to him.

If Sho had to use Kyoko as bait to make Tsuruga lose control, then so be it. He was going to make the other male pay.

No one insulted Fuwa Sho and got away with it.

The metallic doors of the lift slid open as it reached the first floor, and the songwriter stepped out, black boots thudding the ground and his leather coat flickering. He was instantly greeted by the anxious faces of several of his security personnel. They stood together in their black suits, with wireless earpieces clipped to their ears. All of them bowed respectfully in greeting as Sho appeared.

Sho ignored them and cast his sapphire gaze around the lobby.

Tsuruga Ren and his manager, Yashiro Yukihito, sat together on a bench. Both of them were dressed elegantly and impeccably; Tsuruga, in a dark velvet coat and long, black trousers, and Yashiro, in a brown, pinstripe suit.

Upon seeing Sho, Yashiro rapidly got to his feet. He appeared harried and tired. Sho didn't envy him. His job must have become living hell since the news about Blondie and Tsuruga broke out. While it wasn't exactly a scandal since the media was portraying Tsuruga as the victim, the sudden rush of publicity was definitely taking a toil on those involved. While Tsuruga looked as gratingly perfect as always, the exhaustion was showing in Yashiro's slightly haggard demeanor.

The bespectacled man bowed to Sho. "Fuwa-san. I'm glad you're here."

"Let me guess why the two of you came," Sho said acidly. "To retrieve Kyoko. Am I right?"

Tsuruga's dark eyes narrowed from where he coolly remained seated. His angular profile was indifferent, but Sho was certain there was great emotion brewing beneath his blank façade.

"Well, she's not going anywhere," Sho added belligerently. "She's staying with me now."

Yashiro sighed. "Fuwa-san, I desperately seek your understanding about this—"

"Why? What right does he have to take Kyoko back?" Sho demanded icily, pointing a ringed finger at Tsuruga. "Why would she want to go with him after what he's done?"

"That was a complete misunderstanding!" Yashiro countered frantically, letting out a long exhale. "Ren never cheated."

"It doesn't matter," Sho retorted. "No woman in her right mind would return to a man who kissed another woman."

"Oh?" Tsuruga murmured coolly, speaking for the first time. He was still seated. Sho stiffened at the smoothness of the man's rich, deep voice. "If your logic is sound, then why would she have returned to you?"

Sho scowled, taken aback by the eloquent comeback. "You—"

"Unless…" Ren's eyes had completely blackened. There was something almost inhumane in those obsidian eyes, Sho thought warily as he unconsciously took a step back. Ren's pupils had narrowed into thin, ebony slits, not unlike a feline's. "You took her here against her will?"

Sho grinned challengingly at the film star, blue eyes flashing. "Yes. I abducted her. I gagged her and brought her here while she screamed and cried and kicked. What are you going to do about it, huh?"

He never saw it coming.

One second Tsuruga was seated on the bench, and the next, he was not.

It was as if a panther had sprung.

Tsuruga's powerful, gloved fist—slammed against the singer's face—sent Sho flying. He hazily registered the security guards and Yashiro's horrified exclamations ringing in his pierced ears as he reeled from the crushing impact of the blow. The back of his spiky blond head and his spine crashed agonizingly against the marble wall of the lobby. Blood sprayed from his damaged nose. He had barely recovered when Tsuruga's fist smashed unhesitantly into the side of his face a second time, sending him sprawling to the hard ground in an undignified heap, the midnight feathers of his coat fluttering.

Tsuruga's speed and agility stunned the singer. He wasn't human. He couldn't be human. His actions were those of a large, lithe jungle cat—a beast, and a predator. No one could possibly move that fast and possess such brutal, wicked strength, even for a well-built male. How on earth had he been holding back such savage power all along? It was then when information conveniently flooded back into his mind in recollection. The actor was recognised by many as an advanced, skilled practitioner of martial arts. He was praised for performing all the acrobatic stunts in his action films himself without needing a stunt double. Sho didn't know where he had learned it from, or what kind of martial arts he was trained in, but he wasn't going to doubt the credibility of the source.

"Stand back!" Sho rasped forcefully, clutching his broken nose with long, ring-studded fingers. The security guards, who had sprinted towards him to help, froze in their tracks at his hoarse command.

"You bastard…" the blond laughed mirthlessly at Ren. He broke into breathless coughs as his weak laughter abated, and he looked up towards the other male, still gasping for air.

He inhaled again.

Tsuruga didn't look out of breath at all. He appeared unfazed and unruffled, and what unsettled Sho even more was that there was, in fact, no expression in his aristocratic features. It was emotionless and completely inscrutable, save for an eerily cold gleam in those bottomless dark eyes.

A gleam of bloodthirst.

"Stop it, Ren," Yashiro hissed, grabbing the tall man's arm. "We didn't come here to fight—"

Then the impossible happened.

A stunned Sho stared as the dark-haired man suddenly vanished. _Vanished._ Even Yashiro looked startled; his hands clutched thin air at where Ren's arm had been mere milliseconds ago.

A strong, painful kick of Tsuruga's limber foot abruptly rammed into Sho's side from what seemed like nowhere, and he wheezed at the blow as his entire body was sent skidding across the wide expanse of ground, black feathers whizzing. Red-hot agony exploded in his lungs.

"Sho-sama!"

The security guards dashed over and caught him together, their hands—from all directions—halting and steadying his skidding frame. Once he was steady, Sho struggled to sit up from his slumped posture on the ground. He coughed heavily, cursing incoherently and unsteadily under his breath. His blond hair were a mess, and his vision was blurry. Splats of blood dotted the ground, mostly from his broken nose. Sho had a feeling Tsuruga had, with that intense kick, also effortlessly snapped some of his ribs as if they were mere twigs under his leather coat. The other man hadn't gone easy on him.

"I said I don't need your help," Sho griped thickly at the guards, who surrounded him in a protective circle. His voice was slightly nasally due to his injured nose, and his breathing was ragged. Every inhale he took hurt like fuck.

The wall of guards obliged reluctantly, parting so that Sho could take a look at his assailant.

"Ren, stop," Yashiro ordered. He hurried over to the actor's side. "Enough already."

Tsuruga stood motionlessly some distance away from Sho's fallen figure. The singer wasn't sure just how much of Yashiro's words had registered in Tsuruga's hearing; the man seemed completely caught up in a disturbing world of bloodlust inside his head, almost like a shark—a predator—which had detected a whiff of blood, and was not going to let it go. As Sho stared defiantly back at him, the other male took a silent step forward, his obsidian eyes cold and blank.

"What?" Sho laughed gutturally, ignoring the blood running down his chest. "Are you mad because you think I hurt Kyoko? Is that it?"

Tsuruga took another wordless step forward.

"Well, maybe I did hurt her," Sho goaded, though the effect was somehow ruined by the scratchiness and hoarseness in his voice. "In fact, I absolutely _relished_ her expression when I gagged her."

Tsuruga took a third step forward, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Fuwa-san, stop!" Yashiro shouted desperately. "You're going to get yourself killed at this rate!"

"But you know what?" Sho said, ignoring the manager. "What hurt her today wasn't me. It was you."

Pause.

Tsuruga's feet finally stilled.

"She lost consciousness when she saw the news today," Sho iterated. "You made her pass out. You. Not me."

Tsuruga was so still now he resembled a statue.

"What?" Yashiro's entire face slackened in shock. "Kyoko-chan…fainted?"

The atmosphere was frozen.

Sho was saved from answering when the metallic clang of the lift doors opening resounded noisily. Everyone turned their heads at the unexpected movement.

Two familiar figures stepped out.

Sho's sky blue eyes widened.

Shoko, and Kyoko.

* * *

Kyoko's head hurt. Badly.

She had awoken in an unfamiliar bed and room (well…not that unfamiliar. She used to stay over at Sho's apartment plenty of times during their relationship) with a killer headache, and found Shoko seated by her bedside, looking concerned. The manager had helped Kyoko sit up with her back against the pillows, and explained to a confused and bleary Kyoko that she had passed out.

And then Kyoko had remembered.

God. It was awful. The images of Momose and Ren embracing each other and kissing in the tabloids struck right back like a whip, haunting her vision. Her migraine worsened, and she had groaned in misery, feeling the onslaught of bitter tears spring to her eyes. What was Ren thinking? Granted, Kyoko had expected all along that a playboy like him would eventually move on with another more attractive woman, and she had been resigned about it. Or so she thought. Now that it had actually happened, the blow was excruciating.

What made it worse was that Kyoko was certain Momose already had feelings for Ren even before the news' relevation today. The blonde's behaviour during the Star Awards had been almost territorial; why else would she have regarded Kyoko with such hostility? While Kyoko didn't exactly like her as well (she was deathly insecure around Momose's presence), at the very least the former hadn't openly displayed her discomfort or dislike. Perhaps Kyoko should have been more territorial. She wasn't sure what Ren thought of Momose (he looked _friendly_ enough when he had kissed her hand in greeting during the Star Awards), but she had a pretty good idea at this current moment. Now that Ren and Momose's kiss had been broadcasted to the world, Kyoko reeled from the hurt and jealousy of it all.

Hurt, and fury.

She was murderous.

Ignoring Shoko's cries that she should stay in bed, the petite, copper-haired female swung herself over the side of the mattress and got onto her feet. Her aching head felt groggy and her equilibrium was a little unstable, but she was still reasonably balanced enough to stand.

"Please stay put, Kyoko-chan," Shoko insisted. "The doctor is on his way—"

"I'm fine," Kyoko said softly. She gingerly touched the scarf around her neck. "Where's Sho?"

Shoko hesitated, but she spoke. "He went downstairs. Tsuruga-san and his manager are at the lobby."

Kyoko's headache took a turn for the worse. _"What?"_

How did Ren get Sho's address? And how did he even know she was with Sho? Her pulse grew beserk when she remembered receiving an incoming call from Ren moments before she had lost consciousness. Could Sho have answered it? Fuck. This was awful. Who knew how the conversation had gone? It made Koko shudder from the possibilities; she didn't even want to envision what had happened. But that didn't explain how Ren got Sho's address (she couldn't believe that the singer would have told him his address. Why would he welcome Ren to his house? He hated him!). Kyoko was positive that throughout her relationship with Ren she had never told him said address. She avoided talking about Sho entirely with him, if possible, knowing the mutual dislike they shared. Kyoko always knew there was an invisible line between herself and Ren; after all, they never once talked about their exes (well, in her case, ex. She had only ever dated Sho before Ren) unless necessary, despite the resentment they both felt towards the other's past lovers.

A lot of things about her relationship with Ren were like that—so much negativity bubbled underneath the happy, intimate exterior of their romance, to which they chose to ignore and pretend didn't exist. They were definitely both very attracted to each other, and Kyoko was aware Ren evidently cared about her to some extent (not necessarily romantic love), but that alone was not going to be enough to force away all the anger, craziness, and sorrows hidden between them.

They were two people in a very fucked-up relationship.

And Kyoko was sure that if they continued burying all the flaws and blemishes in their relationship instead of addressing them and talking about them, then no amount of attraction and love could save themselves.

She made up her mind.

"Let's go," Kyoko said to Shoko. She hurried out of the room, the blonde right at her heels.

"Where are we going?" Shoko wanted to know. "And are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. And we're going downstairs, to where Sho and Tsuruga-san are," Kyoko answered breathlessly. Her slight limp was making it hard for her to walk too fast. "I'm scared they might get into a fight. You know how much they hate each other."

Shoko's sharp intake of breath was enough to inform Kyoko that this conclusion had not occurred to the former until now.

The next few minutes were spent in a flurry as Shoko unlocked the unit door, and they rushed down the deserted corridor to take the lift down to the lobby at the first floor. Neither of them said anything inside the elevator; they were both too consumed by their morbid thoughts and fears. When the metallic lift doors parted, Kyoko stepped out, only to recoil in shock, trepidation, and horror.

Sho sat in a graceless position on the ground, surrounded by his frightened security guards, who were murmuring amongst themselves. The rock-star looked to be in a terrifying bad state; his usually perfect nose seemed bent grotesquely out of shape, and his lips, neck, and chest were smeared with crimson blood—blood that was still dripping relentlessly from his nose. The side of his face was swollen, bruised, and red (the perfect features of his face that he immensely prided in and often bragged about was ruined, Kyoko thought). His spiky, gold hair was a mess and he was coughing, making the exotic, ebony feathers lining his coat flutter. A ringed hand clutched his side.

"Sho!" Shoko cried out, running to her charge, her stilettos clicking noisily.

Kyoko glanced around apprehensively, her heart pounding.

"Kyoko-chan!" Yashiro's voice called worriedly. "Are you okay?"

She finally found who she was looking for.

"Yeah," Kyoko stammered.

Ren and Yashiro stood together some metres away from her. Kyoko's breath caught nervously when Ren's familiar dark eyes bored intently into hers. An electrical second passed, and his eyes dipped calmly to scan downwards along the dips and curves of her slender form, examining her body sharply. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking; his obsidian gaze was as impenetrable as ever, and there was no expression in his mien. For someone who had just mercilessly pulverized another man, he appeared disconcertingly unruffled and apathetic. It was almost strange, seeing how emotionless he appeared. She also noticed with some—unwilling yet undeniable—relief that he was uninjured.

Had Ren done…this to Sho?

"We need to call the hospital!" Shoko announced desperately, yelling at the security guards. "He's badly injured. His nose! And his ribs are broken too—"

"I'm fine," Sho snapped, slurring slightly.

"Sho," Kyoko said at last, her voice pleading. "Please. Don't."

The singer narrowed blue eyes at her. He knew exactly what she meant.

"Are you crazy?" he demanded nasally, one hand clutching his broken nose. "He did this to me, and all you care about is Tsuruga Ren? I'm definitely suing. Your precious Ren is doomed."

"Fuwa-san—" Yashiro sounded frustrated.

"I'll see you in court, _Tsuruga-san_," Sho jeered, although the effect was somehow ruined by how messed up his voice was.

Kyoko's hands fisted. She hated that even after finding out what Ren had done with Momose, she still cared about him. She still loved him. She wanted to protect him. The moment she saw Sho in such a damaged condition, she had instantly turned her head to check if Ren was okay, her throat tight as if a noose was coiled around her neck and her mouth agonizingly dry. The relief upon seeing that he was indeed alright flooded her chest like a river. And yet despite knowing Ren was the antagonist behind Sho's wounds, she still worried about him rather than the apparent victim in this plight that was the singer. Kyoko couldn't help it. Already her mind was spinning as she struggled to think up ways to get Sho not to file the lawsuit against Ren. There had to be something she could do to appease his anger towards his attacker.

She loathed how deeply in love she had fallen with the film star. And what for?

He had kissed Momose.

He had announced to the whole world her pregnancy without her permission.

And lastly, he had devoured her—body and soul—when she planned only to hand the former to him, in order to conceive.

Kyoko approached Ren quietly. She could sense everyone abruptly still at her movement, and their eyes shifting onto her.

She finally stopped before Ren, her hazel orbs meeting his smothering gaze. He, too, said nothing, and as per the norm she couldn't tell what was going through his astute head. If he was in any way afraid of Sho's threat to sue him, she couldn't tell. If anything, he looked very unconcerned.

Such devasting features, she thought faintly. The features of an angel.

Kyoko raised her hand, and slapped his beautiful face.

Hard.

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N:** Hi, guys! Thank you for all the reviews. I'd like to call this arc the "Fuwa Sho Arc" actually, haha. However, Sho might still pop up in future installments after the arc, so we'll see. But for now, Kyoko and Ren have a lot to deal with between themselves alone (and the public. And Momose. And someone else, as you read. The list goes on forever).

By the way, this fic's version of Ren is a yandere. I mentioned this in chapter three already, so take a look again at it if you can't remember!

Anyway, I'm just grateful I plotted a lot of stuff out already in my head, so all I have to do is follow my plot outline and write them out. When I'm actually not too exhausted from the hellhole that is work, I mean.

Thank you all, and please continue to share your comments!


	11. Chapter 11

_:Chapter 11:_

There was a shocked silence. No one—not Sho, not Shoko, not Yashiro, and certainly not Ren—said a word.

Kyoko lowered her hand shakily. Ironically enough, it had actually hurt to slap him, and not just emotionally. Slapping the elegant features of his face was like slapping hard, carved marble; her palm instantly stung from the impact. She concealed the pain, though, and kept her own face in a grim mask as she stared up at him. There wasn't so much as a mark on his cheek despite how hard she'd slapped him. Clearly, Tsuruga Ren didn't bruise easily. Why was she so surprised about this, anyway? This was a man who had beaten another man to a pulp without receiving any injuries himself at all, let alone via a slap from an angry woman. In fact, Ren hadn't even reacted to her slap; it was almost like she had just attacked a statue.

His face remained expressionless, but his dark, obsidian eyes burned like black fire into her own hazel ones, making her flinch ever so slightly—as if she was the one who had gotten slapped.

Kyoko refused to let herself falter, however. While it was true she had slapped Ren partly because of her own anguish towards what had transpired between Momose and him, she had also done it because she was trying to protect him. While she wasn't sure if a mere slap could appease Sho's anger towards Ren, she had to try. A lawsuit would inflict major damage on Ren's career. No matter how much his fans idolized him, the evidence that he had injured and messed Sho up badly was overwhelming. Kyoko still didn't understand why he had fought Sho; the duo had been enemies for a very long time now, and yet they had never physically clashed. Even if it happened, Kyoko had always imagined that Sho would have initiated it, not Ren. After all, the songwriter was constantly heaping verbal abuse towards Ren, not the other way around. Kyoko had thus figured it would be the same in the event of a physical fight.

Ren had always been, in her perspective, gentle and tender. He wasn't the type to be violent. Just associating the term _violence_ with Tsuruga Ren didn't match. She had become so accustomed to the softness of his caresses and kisses that she never realised she was taking it for granted. Just how much of his powerful, brute strength was he holding back whenever he embraced her? And he was no doubt strong (she had seen firsthand the sleek, sinuous muscles beneath his carelessly discarded clothes during intimate nights), because no one could crush Sho like that and not be strong. Sho was no weakling. He worked out daily to maintain his physique so as to impress the women in his rabid fanbase, not to mention Kyoko had completely been unable to fight him off when he abducted her. Granted, comparing a pregnant female against a well-built man was far from fair, but still, pregnant or not, Kyoko would never be able to hold her own physically against him, and she knew it. Therefore the fact that Ren had crushed Sho so effortlessly stunned Kyoko.

"Apologize to Shotaro," Kyoko commanded bravely, willing herself not to look away from his unblinking gaze. "I believe you owe him an apology."

More silence followed.

And then breathless laughter resounded throughout the lobby, and Kyoko spun around, the scarf on her neck fluttering, only to see the blond singer, still on the ground, caught in a vigorous fit of mirth. As injured and damaged as he was, Kyoko couldn't believe he still had the strength to laugh while covered in blood.

Clearly Shoko shared the same sentiment, since she glared at her charge. "That's enough!"

"Ma'am," a security guard called soberly. He was holding a smartphone. "I've called the ambulance."

Panic welled up inside Kyoko's lungs. There wasn't much time left. She couldn't afford to waste a single minute.

"I said, apologize to Sho!" she repeated hotly to Ren, struggling to keep her hysteria from bubbling into her voice. "Do you really want him to sue you? Apologize!"

His continued silence frustrated and unnerved her further. Didn't he understand the situation he was in, and about the potential end of his career if Sho filed the lawsuit? This was no time for him to entertain his stupid machismo; his job was at stake! Why wasn't Yashiro saying anything? He was Ren's manager; the least he could do was help Kyoko in trying to persuade the actor to apologise to Sho. There was no way Kyoko could just stand by and watch the man she loved fall prey to Sho's threats. Sho was _her_ problem. Kyoko felt immensely guilty; she knew Ren and Yashiro must have come to Sho's lobby in the first place because of her. Sho must have informed Ren somehow that she was in his apartment, and had used it to goad him into coming here. Hence, Kyoko was—at least—indirectly the reason they had fought. And if Sho carried out with his threats, she could also become the reason behind the demise of Ren's career.

Kyoko turned again to face the singer.

"Shotaro," she said, almost choking over the words. "Please. I'm begging you. Don't sue Tsuruga-san. I'll do whatever you want—"

The woman emitted a soft cry of surprise when long, gloved fingers curled around the entirety of her left arm, then tugged her firmly away. She protested, legs stumbling. It took her a second to realise that Ren was steering her away, and she dug her heels into the ground, refusing to let him move her, but it was like fighting off the current of the ocean. She nearly tripped from her efforts, however, and abruptly, Ren bent down, slid his arm around her petite shoulders and another under the back of her knees, then scooped her up effortlessly.

She clung to him instinctively for dear life, her little mouth falling open in a gasp from the sudden lurch of equilibrium. Before she could so much as gather her thoughts, Ren had risen and was gliding away from the lobby with her slender form cradled securely in his arms.

"Shoko-san," Kyoko could hear Yashiro say to the other manager, "Please be assured that we will foot the medical bills. We will definitely take responsibility…"

And then Kyoko was out of earshot when Ren left the lobby and ventured gracefully into the parking lot. The open sky yawned above them.

Kyoko was still too stunned to say a thing, and she gaped at the sight of his SUV, which was parked directly beside Sho's.

She was all too familiar with Ren's car; often he had driven her to work, and she would beg him to drop her off a few blocks away from her office. The last thing she wanted was for her co-workers to notice famous film star Tsuruga Ren dropping her off. Although no one saw Ren, she had been caught by her supervisor before, who only noticed that Kyoko had gotten out of an expensive, luxurious car. For the next few days she had been interrogated by her very intrigued supervisor, who wanted to know more about Kyoko's 'rich, secret boyfriend'. Kyoko had insisted it wasn't so, that the driver was just a friend, but the supervisor had retorted that no _friend_ would be willing to drop her off every working morning.

Kyoko had then argued that her 'friend' worked nearby, and that therefore it was along the way to drop Kyoko off. When asked where her 'friend' worked, Kyoko had been, to her dismay and horror, unable to come up with a convincing reply. It didn't help that, due to Ren's financial support, Kyoko no longer worked full-time at the office, and her supervisor was hence more convinced than ever of the existence of her 'rich, secret boyfriend'.

It was then when she wondered if her supervisor and her other co-workers had recognised her on television last night.

"Tsuruga-san," Kyoko hissed, squashing the thought. This wasn't the time to ruminate about it. "Put me down at once."

"No," he answered softly. The eerie coldness was finally gone from his expression, but it was still difficult to read what went on behind his dark, thoughtful eyes.

"What do you mean, no?" she said angrily, fisting her small hands around the exquisite velvet of his coat. "We need to get right back to the lobby now—"

"No," Ren reiterated calmly.

He bent slightly again and opened the car door, all the while still deftly balancing her in his arms. Before she could yell at him some more, he had lowered her slender frame carefully onto the shotgun, making sure that she eased onto the leather seating comfortably. It was disconcerting, how the sudden loss of his addictive body warmth disappointed Kyoko so much. Although they had only just parted in the morning, it felt like ages since she last saw him, and Kyoko had to resist the irrational urge to run her fingers through his glossy black hair. Not allowing her true emotions to show, she fumed at him as he languidly pulled the seat-belt over the front of her chest and then strapped her in, his movements unhurried but precise.

The sound of formal shoes clicking against the gravel drifted to her ears and Kyoko lifted her copper head. Yashiro was approaching them, but was stopped by another man, who was similarly dressed in an impeccable suit. Kyoko recognised the latter; he was Sho's chauffeur. As she eyed them curiously, the chauffeur hauled something—her briefcase!—out from the boot of Sho's car, then rested it onto the ground with a thud. Yashiro thanked the man gratefully, and took the handle of the briefcase from him.

The next few minutes passed by tersely as Yashiro kept her briefcase into the boot of Ren's vehicle, and an unruffled Ren moved over and seated himself by the wheel. And then the bespectacled man got into the back of the car, and he slammed the door shut.

The moment the SUV set off from the parking lot, chaos erupted within the privacy of its interior.

"Are you _insane_, Ren?" Yashiro bellowed heatedly, sticking his head towards the driver's seat. "What were you thinking?! You attacked Fuwa Sho!"

"Exactly! Why?" Kyoko cried. "You're not…violence isn't like you!"

Silence. Her boyfriend said nothing, but continued keeping his gaze on the road, hands resting lazily over the steering wheel. He had removed his gloves, and tucked the bloodied leather—a sight she had hastily averted her eyes from—into the side of the car door.

Yashiro released a frustrated sigh.

"Answer me!" Kyoko shouted, enraged. "What if Sho sues you? What are you going to do about it then, huh? Turn the car back now! I told you to apologize, and you just ignored—"

"About that, Kyoko-san," Yashiro intervened suddenly, from behind her. "You don't have to worry. It won't happen."

She craned her neck to peer incredulously at him, her fingers clutching her scarf to keep it from becoming entangled with the seat belt. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it this way," Yashiro explained kindly. "Fuwa Sho has always disliked Ren, and he views Ren as his arch-rival. He wants the public to see that he overtakes Ren one day."

"I know that," Kyoko said desperately. "That's why he's definitely going to sue Tsuruga-san to ruin him!"

"No, he won't," Yashiro replied reassuringly. "Because if he does, he'll be letting the whole world know that he got beaten to a pulp by his nemesis. And there's no way someone as proud and arrogant as Fuwa would allow that."

Kyoko's jaw dropped.

Yashiro was right. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier? Sho resented the fact that he was less famous and less idolized than Ren. He was working everyday to remedy that fact; the singer hoped to show to the world that he was superior to—or at least on equal footing with—Ren. If he filed the lawsuit, it would be broadcast internationally that he had lost to Ren in a physical fight. In fact, his severely beaten-up state only further proved that he was inferior to Ren in terms of bodily strength. Kyoko might not know much about men, but she knew that their egos relied greatly on their physical prowess, and not just in terms of intellect. This was evident way back in the Stone Age, and Kyoko was sure that while many things had changed, some traditions carried on until today, primitive as they were. Sho might want nothing more than to see Ren's career fall to ruins, but never at the expense of his own pride.

So Sho had lied, hadn't he? She suddenly felt extremely stupid and abashed. He had fired empty threats about Ren at Kyoko, and she had believed them and responded to them in a frenzied panic. If Yashiro had figured out that there was no way Sho meant what he said, Ren had to know, too. After all, the actor was even cleverer than his manager. Oh, God. And she had slapped Ren, then begged him in front of Sho to apologize.

How was she going to live this one down?

Kyoko stared fixedly down at her drawn knees, fingers clutching her scarf. She was resolute not to look at anyone, especially not at Tsuruga Ren. Her cheeks burned.

"Also," Yashiro continued from the backseat, unaware of Kyoko's mortification. "If he sues Ren, he'll have to provide film evidence from the CCTV at the lobby. And in that video, he said very clearly to Ren that he abducted you, Kyoko-san. He'll get into legal trouble himself if anyone from the court saw it."

Kyoko's body turned rigid. Sho had said that to Ren?

She continued staring at her knees, suppressing the urge to glance at him from where he was seated silently beside her by the wheel.

"Speaking of which," Yashiro added worriedly. "Are you alright, Kyoko-san?"

"I'm fine," Kyoko said, clearing her throat. "He didn't hurt me."

"That will be for the doctor to decide."

Kyoko jumped in her seat. Ren had spoken, in the same calm, unaffected voice from before.

"Doctor?" she echoed, puzzled.

"I am bringing you to a private clinic now," he answered matter-of-factly. "The doctor there is a personal friend of mine."

"_What?"_ Kyoko exclaimed. "No! I don't need to see a doctor. I told you, I'm fine!"

"Fuwa said that you passed out, Kyoko-san," Yashiro explained concernedly. "Is it true?"

Kyoko stiffened immediately.

What? Sho had told Ren and Yashiro that she'd fainted? God, _why?_ Did this mean Ren knew that she'd collapsed because of his kiss with Momose? This was fucking humiliating! The last thing she wanted was for Ren to find out that she had passed out because of him.

Kyoko was sure he currently knew of her feelings towards him...feelings that had existed and solidified for a while, of which she hadn't realised until lately. She didn't know when those feelings had begun to blossom, and she wasn't certain why. But then again, nobody knew why they loved someone, didn't they? It came out of nowhere, without any explanation at all. And although Ren must know that she had used him throughout their pseudo-relationship, he had to also know that she did possess genuine feelings for him by now. The facts that she had fainted because of him, then fiercely commanded him to apologize to Sho in order to protect his career, were overwhelming as evidence. Kyoko was positive he did not reciprocate those feelings seeing as he had kissed Momose, but he must care for her enough—platonically, anyway—that he did not want to see her hurt.

For some reason, that insulted and hurt her far more than if he was simply indifferent towards her.

"I didn't pass out," Kyoko said shortly. "Sho was lying."

The air was mute.

And then a few stifling minutes later she heard Yashiro speaking, but not, she discovered, to herself or Ren. He was on his phone, and was requesting someone to keep a clinic under lock-down as 'Tsuruga Ren was on the way'.

_No!_

"I said I was fine, Tsuruga-san," Kyoko snapped. "Tell Yashiro-san that he doesn't have to—"

"You may not care for your own welfare," Ren said simply, still keeping his dark eyes on the road. "But what about our child's?"

Kyoko's breath hitched, and she swallowed. This was the first time her lover had directly addressed their baby with her since his announcement at the Star Awards. She was instantly relieved that Yashiro was busy on the phone, so that he could not sense the suffocating tension between herself and Ren. After all, the couple had spent the entirety of last night skirting around the subject, as per her request. Kyoko had promised Ren that they would talk about it properly after she left for a day. But then again, things had unexpectedly gotten out of hand, and she supposed that their little agreement was presently called off. Consequently, did this mean that—right now—they would have to breach the subject she was so afraid of breaching?

Shit.

She wasn't ready. But then again, Kyoko doubted that she would ever be ready.

Still, Ren was right. Kyoko, who usually couldn't care less about her own well-being, knew she had to start changing her attitude soon. She was pregnant. She was carrying a new life inside of her. Kyoko had worked hard to attain her prize over the past month, and now that she was finally pregnant, she would not let the baby down. It needed her. She was its guardian and protector. Kyoko was determined that it remained safe and cocooned from the harshness of the outside world throughout her gestation period, even if that meant she would have to be extra careful with her health. She abruptly felt a pang of worry, thinking back to her brief fainting spell. Why hadn't she fretted about this earlier (granted, the series of events that subsequently followed were distracting enough)? Had it adversely affected the child?

_Our child._

Her pulse raced at Ren's words. Already he had claimed the life in her belly as casually as if he was conversing about the weather.

"I never said that the child was yours," Kyoko blurted recklessly. "What makes you so sure you're the fathe—"

She instantly trailed off.

Ren's eyes had blackened, and his exotic pupils had slitted ominously, a sign of dangerous emotion. In this case, anger. Kyoko understood straightaway that he was warning her not to finish the sentence. While they both knew she was bluffing, this was a bluff that he would not tolerate hearing about. Even though it was obviously untrue, the mere insinuation that another man might have bedded her was enough for Kyoko to realize that she would regret bringing it up had she finished her sentence.

She fell silent.

Behind her, she could hear Yashiro ending the phone call, seemingly unaware of what had happened. Despite that, he clearly sensed something was off between Kyoko and Ren, and he kept quiet.

And for the rest of the car ride, no one said anything.

* * *

"My, my," Dr. Ruriko Matsunai said in wonder. "I can't believe it. She's really your date from the Star Awards last night, Ren?"

Kyoko fidgeted uneasily on the chair, glancing about the consultation room. She nibbled on a choco-chip cookie, hoping to distract herself from her rattled nerves. The doctor had handed her the cookie from a jar when she found out that Kyoko hadn't eaten the whole day (she hadn't touched the buns and tea Shoko had offered earlier at all. On the other hand, both Ren and the doctor had said that tea wasn't very healthy for a pregnant female).

Around fifteen minutes ago, Ren, Yashiro, and Kyoko had gotten out of the parked SUV, and Ren had gently guided her towards the closed, glass door of a private clinic that was situated by the street. She had followed him unprotestingly, his soothing, warm hand encompassing her tiny one. Never mind that the same hand holding hers gently had also brutally pulverized Sho's face not too long ago. The softness of his touch at that moment made her forget about the monstrous power he was capable of—or his capacity for cold-blooded violence.

Or rather, she didn't want to think about it.

The clinic had, as Yashiro had requested over the phone, been locked down. Evidently celebrities had the power to completely reserve establishments so as to make sure their stay there was undisturbed. Kyoko wasn't unfamiliar with this power; Sho loved booking malls and pubs for his own private enjoyment and using his star influence to kick out all the other patrons there before him. No other patient was in sight, Kyoko realised, peering through the glass door. The receptionist on the other side of the door had recognised Ren and then eagerly unlocked it to let the trio in. Kyoko hoped no earlier patient had been kicked out. It seemed unfair that she received uninterrupted medical attention without having to wait in the line unlike the rest of the normal patients.

And what made her special compared to them? Nothing! She wasn't a celebrity either. She was an average female who, like them, did not belong to showbiz. The only reason she got this VIP treatment and got to enjoy the life of the wealthy was because she was Tsuruga Ren's lover. And that was what she would ever be in front of others, including Kijima and Momose. Not as Mogami Kyoko, but as Tsuruga Ren's commoner lover. And in all likelihood, it appeared she wouldn't remain as his lover for long.

Kyoko suddenly felt very small.

And she had felt even smaller when the doctor had appeared.

The doctor was beautiful. Slender and svelte, she cut a striking figure against the plain white of the clinic. She had thick chestnut curls that prettily framed her thin face, and wide, expressive grey eyes, almost like a doll's. Dressed in a doctor's overcoat with a tiny, skin-tight crimson dress underneath, she appeared almost seductive and coy, like one of those models wearing a naughty Halloween costume instead of being a real medical practitioner. While she wasn't as tall or willowy as Momose was, her beauty still rivaled the latter. Kyoko had always assumed that her own petite stature dulled her looks—after all, the most attractive of women were supermodels, and they were always very tall—but now that she faced with this gorgeous woman who was of the same height as herself, she felt subdued and crushed.

What made Kyoko feel even smaller was the way the doctor looked at Ren.

She knew him.

She knew him very well too, if the recognition and delight in her large, dark-lashed grey eyes were anything to go by. As expected, Ren's 'personal friend' had to be a woman, Kyoko concluded bitterly. Kyoko didn't have enough basis to assume she was another one of his exes, but the pair certainly had shared some history together at one point of time in their lives, judging how comfortable they appeared with each other. Maybe not sexually, but there was still _something_.

"Ren," the doctor sighed. "It's been so long."

"Ruriko," Ren greeted, his sensual lips smiling.

It didn't escape a disgruntled Kyoko's notice that she had called him by his first name, something not even Kyoko got to do.

Ren had made introductions for both women—the doctor was called Dr. Ruriko Matsunai—and then they had moved to the medical consultation room, where Yashiro had politely excused himself from and stayed in the clinic reception.

And now Kyoko sat on a chair, chewing edgily on her cookie. Ren was lounging gracefully beside her on another chair like a sophisticated cat, his large hand calmly entwined with hers—the hand not holding her cookie—on her lap. He had, much to her mortification, refused to let her hand go since they had gotten out of his SUV. This was embarrassing, since Yashiro, Dr. Ruriko, and the clinic receptionist could see what they were doing. However, Kyoko did know that Ren generally didn't approve of public displays of affection. Holding hands or putting his arm around her or kissing her cheek was fine, but anything beyond that from outside the house door was not. Maybe it was due to the lack of privacy afforded in his career, but he was the exact opposite of an exhibitionist.

Ren was also very protective of her modesty; he would never allow her to wear revealing clothing in public. In his books, revealing meant a neckline that dipped beyond her clavicles. She knew he disliked other men seeing more of her skin than they needed to. This was why she had worn such a shockingly conservative dress at the Star Awards, which he knew was broadcast on national television. It was frustrating, how particular he could be regarding this subject.

However, such conservativeness was completely absent within the privacy of their bedroom—or rather, his bedroom.

Her pale cheeks flared at the recollection.

"She doesn't look anything like what I saw on TV last night," Dr. Matsunai went on. "Are you sure she's the same person?"

Kyoko's stomach twisted annoyedly. She didn't need another reminder of how plain she was without any makeup on. Thinking of the Star Awards made her think about Momose again, and the anger intensified and cut through her belly like a blade.

"Yes, it's me," she ground out, in an uncharacteristically bad-tempered tone. "And I'm right here, you know. You can refer to me directly."

Kyoko could feel Ren's long fingers stir slightly against hers in surprise.

Alright, so it wasn't just her jealousy over Momose acting up. She was pretty irritated with this hot lady doctor, too. And if there was one thing she regretted from before, it was that she hadn't been territorial enough about Ren last night. Momose's hostility yesterday had made it pretty clear to Kyoko that she had set her eyes on Ren, and Kyoko had been too taken aback and intimidated to fight back.

"Right," the doctor said, not sounding the least bit contrite. "So how can I help you? Do you need some consultation about your, um, pregnancy?" Her gaze flickered to Kyoko's flat abdomen.

Clearly, just like the rest of the world, she had heard Ren's famous announcement last night.

This time the actor spoke.

"She fainted today," Ren said quietly, dark eyes glittering like cold ink beneath the shadows of his long, alluring lashes. Kyoko could feel his large hand tightening over her small, bony one, though not painfully.

"Fainted?" Dr. Ruriko's resplendent grey eyes widened, and she straightened alertly in her chair, one hand already tugging out a pen from the breast pocket of her coat. "Do you know what triggered it? Could you tell me the exact symptoms you felt right before you passed out?"

"I—um, I was feeling very stressed," Kyoko answered weakly, not looking at Ren. The lingering warmth of his masculine fingers against hers made it impossible to ignore his potent presence next to her, however. "I got really dizzy, and my surroundings started spinning. And after that I don't remember much. Everything just went black."

She might as well, she thought, be as honest as she could, for the baby's sake.

"Where were you when you fainted?" Dr. Ruriko questioned, writing away on her notepad. "Do you remember hitting anywhere hard when you fell?"

Kyoko really had to give it to her. Ren's kiss with Momose was all over the news and the internet right now, and there was a very high chance Dr. Ruriko had seen it. This was probably why she hadn't probed Kyoko further about what she had been so stressed about. She knew. If so, Ruriko must find it strange and intriguing that Ren had just kissed another woman, then brought Kyoko here for a check-up about their baby. Yet Ruriko was acting and behaving very professionally, with no personal or irrelevant questions asked.

Kyoko herself found it extremely insulting and discomforting. She didn't need Ren to bring her here. How humiliating, that he was accompanying her to a clinic like a dutiful lover and father-to-be, when he had just embraced another woman not too long ago. It was like a smack against her face.

But what could she do? She needed to take care of their—no, _her_ child. The baby's life and well-being was more important than her pride, shattered as it was. And she had promised Ren they would talk. They needed to talk after this.

"I was in a…a friend's house," Kyoko said warily, answering Ruriko's query. Shotaro was a far cry from a friend, but she didn't exactly have a choice. In front of Ren, Kyoko knew she had to go carefully about Sho. The actor had a tendency to become very jealous and displeased whenever Sho was brought up, which fortunately happened very rarely, due to her persistence not to talk about him. Still, it was inevitable now. "I didn't hit anything hard. He…" The shocking memory of leather-clad arms wrapping around her during the last fleeting moments of her consciousness swept across her vision. "He caught me. He caught me as I was falling, and later I woke up in his bed. I couldn't have been out for more than a few minutes."

She realized all too late the fatality of her mistake when Ren's big, long-fingered hand suddenly grew taut over hers. Her heartbeat jerked in horror and terror at what she had just said unthinkingly to Ruriko.

"The bed in his guest room, I mean!" Kyoko corrected desperately, glad that she had finished her biscuit, or she would have choked on it. She knew even without looking (not that she dared) that Ren's eyes had gone black. "Not his bed!"

Why was she so _dumb?_ Why hadn't she phrased her words properly?

"I see," Ruriko said, staring in Ren's direction. She seemed fascinated by him, and Kyoko had to wrestle the irrationally possessive urge to block Ren from her scrutiny. "Well, it's not uncommon for a pregnant woman to faint from stress. Do you have anaemia, or any other particular health condition?"

"No," Kyoko replied tightly. "Never have."

"Speaking of which, how far along are you?" Ruriko asked. She had uncoiled her stethoscope from her breast pocket and leaned forward, pressing the cold metal against Kyoko's chest. The edges of Kyoko's scarf brushed against the doctor's fingers, and she glanced at the fluttering material briefly, looking slightly quizzical. It was strange, Kyoko realized in mortification, for her to wear the scarf indoors.

But she couldn't take it off, and she figured she didn't need to anyway, since it was unlikely Ruriko wanted to check her bare neck.

"Um…" Kyoko struggled to think. Her brain seemed to have gone numb, and she couldn't focus.

"Just under two weeks."

Kyoko stiffened. The last thing she had expected was for Ren to know the answer!

"She took the pregnancy test an exact week after conception," he continued unhurriedly. "The First Response pregnancy test kit, that is."

Kyoko's fragile, slim frame froze. He knew!

She was aware that he knew of her pregnancy, but the extent of how much he knew stunned her. How on earth did he know? She'd told no one, not even Kanae, what sort of pregnancy test kit she'd used. Ren was right. She had used the First Response, which, as the title already explained, was an exceptional pregnancy test that helped to detect pregnancy at an earlier stage than other average pregnancy tests. Assuming she was ovulating during the night of conception (and she had. She'd been counting the days to coincide her ovulation with the day she stopped taking birth control), she could check for pregnancy seven days after that. The night of conception had been the same day she first quit birth control, and also the same night Ren had asked her to attend the Star Awards with him, which she'd agreed. He'd claimed her in the middle of their dinner, and before she knew it, the both of them had been caught up in a heat of passion on his vinyl couch.

Kyoko was positive she hadn't told anyone, including Kanae, the kind of pregnancy test she had used. She had thrown the tests out after using them. Kyoko wasn't stupid enough to throw it in the dustbin at home; she had disposed of it outside the house. So how the hell did Ren find out? Her skin prickled, feeling the coldness that had nothing to do with Dr. Ruriko's metal stethoscope grow inside her chest. It seemed he knew her every move; he knew when she had quit birth control, knew when their child had been conceived, knew why she had pursued him from the very beginning.

Kyoko swallowed a petrified, guilty lump in her throat.

"I see," Ruriko said, withdrawing the instrument from Kyoko's chest. She picked up a thermometer, replaced the plastic cap, brushed aside some of Kyoko's bronze hair, and gently lowered its tip into her soft ear. "However, two weeks is still very early for a pregnancy. If you don't mind, I'd like for you to take a pregnancy test again."

Kyoko's heartbeat sped up and her skin grew clammy. She was becoming increasingly nervous. Taking the pregnancy test by herself was one thing, but taking it again, this time with Ren? If the results were positive once more, which she was sure they would, then it would be undeniable to both of them that they were expecting.

There was no hiding anything from Ren now, not when the results were going to be put in black and white to their faces.

"But of course," Ren agreed politely. He turned his regal head to Kyoko, perfect, sensuous lips curved into a sardonic, almost mocking smile. "What say you, Mogami-san?"

Dr. Ruriko blinked, looking slightly disbelieving and amused at what he had called Kyoko. Her bloody last name, Kyoko thought peevishly. Ruriko must find it very bizarre that Ren was addressing the mother of his child by her last name. Kyoko was instantly defensive, but what could she do? She was the one who had initiated such formal terms with Ren from the beginning of their relationship, and she couldn't regret it now and throw a tantrum just because he was addressing her with formality—that she had wanted from the start—in front of this beautiful woman he seemed to share a mysterious past with.

Kyoko forced the growing bile of fear down her throat as she thought back to Ruriko's request. There was no point trying to conceal anything from Ren anymore. He already knew, anyway. And she had resolved to herself that they were going to talk.

She wouldn't run. She'd tried running, and look at how that had turned out.

If she intended to run in the near future, it would only be if he let her.

And she knew it.

"Yes," Kyoko said tiredly. "Let's do it."

The problem was that she didn't want to run anymore.

* * *

Kyoko lay exhaustedly on the medical examination table, her diminutive body covered by a blanket and her head propped up on a pillow Dr. Ruriko had gotten for her. Ren was seated sedately on a chair he had pulled up by her side, his elegant hand still cradling her small, pale one. Dr. Ruriko, respecting his request for some privacy, had drawn the sterile, white curtains around the exam table and then left the consultation room.

Yashiro was still outside at the lounging area, and Kyoko knew he was busy dealing with endless phone calls regarding Ren and Momose—the publicity and the media were still blowing up and showing no signs of abating—and to top it off, he had to take care of Sho's medical bills in Ren's stead. It couldn't be easy, taking the role of Ren's manager, but then again, there were thousands of other candidates who were definitely dying to have his position. Why wouldn't they? To become the manager behind Japan's—and the rest of the world's—biggest A-list actor was an honor, and a massive money-making opportunity. Kyoko knew, though, that Yashiro wasn't doing this for just the money. He had been by Ren's side since day one of his career, way before Ren was a household name around the globe. It was because of loyalty more than anything else.

After the time spent on the pregnancy test, of which the results had been a glaring positive, as she'd expected, and after the doctor proceeded with the rest of the check-up (she had deemed Kyoko fine, just stressed and that her blood pressure was a tad too high), Kyoko had felt drained and fatigued by the end of it all, both emotionally and physically. It had been a long day, and she was already more susceptible to tiredness than usual due to her pregnancy. Although she had gotten out of bed late today, the events that subsequently followed since she left their house were mentally gruelling. Ren had requested the doctor to get Kyoko something hot to drink, and after taking a few gulps of the soothing beverage (just plain hot milk this time, since both Ren and Ruriko disapproved of her taking caffeine), Ren had helped her lie down, then informed Ruriko that he would like for Kyoko to rest a bit before setting off again. The doctor agreed steadily. Kyoko doubted any woman in the world with a healthy set of reproductive organs would be able to refuse Tsuruga Ren.

She did feel slightly bad, however. Today might have been tough on her, but it couldn't have been any easier for Ren. He had awoken and left the house far earlier than she had, got inadvertently caught into a sticky, chaotic web of publicity with Momose, then went over to Sho's apartment and attacked him in a frighteningly violent and physical fight. He might have been responsible for a lot of the things that had happened, but today had to be toiling for him too. Yashiro had looked haggard enough.

Kyoko hated to admit it, but she was worried about him. She knew she ought to be more concerned about what he had done to Sho, but her strong feelings for Ren blotted out her rationale.

"Are you…okay?" Kyoko asked hesitantly, turning her dishevelled head slightly towards him from where she was resting on the pillow.

Glossy, ebony brows arched, and the corner of his lush lips quirked. "Of course, darling." He reached out and gently brushed aside a stray strand of copper hair from her cheek. "I should be asking you that."

Still, Kyoko couldn't help but notice that he appeared blatantly pleased at her concern for his welfare.

Her belly squirmed. There was so many things they needed to talk about, but suddenly, now that they were alone and the room was hushed, she was struck by the overwheming urge to just stay quiet and let the peaceful lull between them rock her to sleep. He wasn't making a move to initiate the big discussion they would have to face and go through with sooner or later, and she figured it was best this way for now. It was comforting, too, feeling the warm callouses of his touch against her delicate skin, and the humming of his sensuous, deep voice in the air. His tranquil humming was better than anything Sho could ever sing.

_Momose's lips—plump, soft, and starkly scarlet—were pressed intimately against Ren's._

Kyoko's eyelids, which had been drooping, abruptly flew open from the horrifying memory. A dull ache blossomed against the side of her head.

"Mogami-san?" Ren's melody broke off, and his spidery fingers stirred tenderly against her cheek. "What's the matter, darling?"

"We need to talk." How could she, even for a lethargic second, think she could ignore everything and go to sleep? No matter how exhausted she was, the recollection would come back to haunt her in her nightmares.

Ren's obsidian eyes gleamed with immediate comprehension as he took in the bitter, guarded determination etched on her heart-shaped face. "Ah. I see."

"I won't let you put it off," Kyoko snapped, aggravated by his noncommittal rejoinder.

"This is where you misunderstand," he murmured coolly, entrancing eyes flashing. "You were tired, and I was worried. I wanted you to rest. I still do, as a matter of fact."

"I'm not going to sleep until we get this mess sorted out."

"As you wish." His mouth twisted, almost diabolically. He spoke with mock graciousness. "Where would you like to start, Mogami-san?"

"Let's start from today." Kyoko was still too frightened about approaching the subject of her pregnancy, and about how much he knew. But the events of today were more than enough to keep them preoccupied right now. "We should take turns, and recount—honestly—what happened today. Do you want me to go first?"

"Yes," he murmured, watching her intently. "Go on."

Kyoko inhaled shallowly, forcing herself to gather her courage and to make certain that her voice didn't wobble.

"Alright. So after you left the house, I packed my luggage today. You said that I could leave for one day, and I intended to take you up on your promise. Technically there was less than a day left, because Tsuruga-san, you freaking cheated, and you know it. You made me wake up late—" Ren emitted a low, husky chuckle at that, and she shivered at the sound, then steeled herself and continued. "So I packed my stuff, and I took the bus to my apartment. I wanted to go there to sort of clear my head, plus I haven't been back home for ages. But when I got there…"

Ren's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

"Sho was waiting for me. He was parked right by the block of my apartment. I swear to God I didn't call him or invite him there or anything. That asshole was lying in wait for me after he saw me on TV last night."

"I see," was all he said.

"And then…he..." she shuddered. "He—"

"I know." Ren moved, and she took a shaky breath when he lifted her thin, bare hand and gently kissed the inside of her palm. His soft but firm lips were like hot fire against her leaping pulse. "I know, my darling. You don't have to say it."

"I swear I tried all I could to fight back—"

"You shouldn't have."

His words roused her fully from the dazed stupor his kisses had left her in.

"What?" Kyoko asked dumbly.

"What if you angered him further and he hurt you?" Ren responded bluntly. "It's safer not to fight back against a man far stronger than you. Instead, you should have done as he said, and then wait." His hypnotic, smoky eyes bored unabashedly into her wide ochre ones. "I will definitely come for you."

Her creamy cheeks flushed, and she had to battle the childish urge to bury her face into the pillow, so as to avert herself from his piercing gaze. However, she had barely turned her face when male fingers reached out and lightly held her chin, gently halting her movements. She froze.

"He gagged you, didn't he?" Ren said softly.

Kyoko paused, unsure of what to say. Sho had told Ren that, too? Just how much information had that imbecile told Ren? Had Sho been trying to rile Ren up—and consequently, trying to sign his own death warrant? Well, if he had, it had worked too well, judging by Sho's broken ribs and nose. And who knows what else, if Kyoko and Shoko hadn't gone down to the lobby in time?

Kyoko nodded slowly.

Ren's raven eyes slid towards her faintly bruised mouth. With her chin held in place, she couldn't shift herself away from how boldly he was studying her parted lips. Her heartbeat thundered like a sledgehammer, and she exhaled breathlessly.

He bent his aristocratic head and kissed her mouth. It wasn't a hard, rough kiss (as she had occasionally experienced with him during more fiery moments), but an extremely sweet, loving one. It was almost chaste, even, if not for the fact that his agile, feline tongue was languorously caressing the inside of her lips, tracing and stroking the vaguely bruised skin, almost as if he was tenderly lapping at her wounds—the area where Shotaro had forcefully bound her lips with the scarf and gagged her. Ren tasted of tantalizing rain, spice, and an essence she knew that was elusive to him. Heat erupted in the cavern of her mouth at his aching, possessive kiss, and she moaned helplessly.

Kyoko arched her back, trying to press the entirety of her slender form against the posh, lustrous surface of his velvet coat, his hard chest and the rest of his large, panther-like body. She wanted to feel him against her—…

His masculine hand softly pressed against her thin shoulders, keeping her pinned to the bed.

And then it was over, and Kyoko let out a shrill whine at the painful absence of his burning mouth against hers.

"It seems the prospect of motherhood is not without its effects on you," Ren enunciated silkily, and she knew this time his eyes had turned jet black because of his desire for her, and not just because of his cold fury towards Sho. "To think that a mere kiss has aroused you to this extent...I like it."

His lips tipped upwards into a satisfied, predatory smile.

Kyoko glared at him, panting.

"I don't want to kiss you," she hissed, more stung that she'd thought. But then again, he was right. No one was as magnificently skilled a kisser as Ren, but this wasn't just because of his impressive prowess in bed. Her pregnancy hormones were on a rampage right now, and she had desperately wanted him inside of her after a mere kiss. "You kissed someone else."

A pause.

"How rude," Ren said quietly. "I have yet to share my side of the story, and you are already making judgement."

"Make judgement?" Kyoko laughed acerbically. "Tsuruga-san, I saw the photos on the news. Photographs don't lie."

"Ah, my sweet, but they do."

"Don't be ridiculous—"

"They capture a part of a story. They do not capture all the parts that make a story whole, and if manipulated well enough, you will only be shown the part you wish to see the least."

Kyoko stared up at him from where she lay. She felt confused, tired, and frustrated. "Stop beating around the bush. Get to the point, please."

The corners of his sculpted mouth were upturned. "For example, if a camera had only captured the part where you were in Fuwa's apartment and lying in his bed, what would you do?"

Kyoko blurted exasperatedly, "I wasn't in his bed! I was in the bed in his guest room—"

"How would I know?" Ren cut in dangerously. "The camera only captured that you were lying in a bed in his apartment. Wouldn't the natural assumption be that it was his?"

Her jaw slackened. She didn't know what to say; she was rendered speechless. And yet, despite her instinctive indignation and defensiveness at his accusation, she was beginning to see his point, as indistinctive and faint as it was.

"It's your turn now," Kyoko said finally. "Recap your story. You know the rest with what happened after Sho…brought me to his apartment."

"Actually, I do not," Ren said smoothly. "There is much more I want to know, and we will be discussing it at a later time. But for now—" His dark, cognac eyes were very bright. "I will tell you about Itsumi Momose."

It was difficult to tell what he thought of the other woman; his rich voice had become flat and emotionless as he spoke her name.

Her fingers tightened over the hem of her blanket.

"I was invited to the Blue Princess Hotel where the cast of Dark Moon were celebrating my win at the Star Awards. I hadn't wanted to go, so you know. Merriment and indulgence have always been largely lost on me—or rather, I simply enjoy indulgence in other forms." He smiled, his long, adroit digits deliberately brushing against the knuckles of her tiny, trembling hand. Her pulse grew erratic, and her face turned pink. She knew exactly what he was trying to say. "But it was a societal obligation, and I could not afford to ignore it. So I went, thinking I could go for perhaps an hour and then leave. I had barely arrived at the Blue Princess Hotel when I saw Miss Momose standing there at the entrance, waiting for me. The paparazzi were already swarming the place.

I should have known then that something was amiss. I normally would have, I suppose. But I was feeling exceptionally preoccupied today, and I wanted to get this party over and done with so I could move on for work. I was negligent. She began walking towards me, and I carelessly assumed that she was going to greet me. I believed Yashiro-san thought the same as I did—at least, until her arms were around me, and I realised she was kissing me."

Kyoko's airways tightened.

Ren hadn't kissed her. Momose had kissed him. Now that she thought about it, the photos had depicted Momose with _her_ arms around Ren, and her lips pressed to his. Ren's arms hadn't been around her. Nothing of his body had actually touched her, save for where she had positioned herself against him.

_It hadn't been mutual._

"And of course," Ren added wryly, "you never saw the photographs where I removed her from my person. You only saw the photographs where the kiss took place—a kiss, might I add, that barely lasted a second. But a second alone is enough for a picture to be taken."

The insides of her veins, which had been frozen since she had seen the news, finally began to thaw, and she gasped, feeling the exhilaration run through her nerves. Relief hit her, hard and immense.

When Kyoko raised her head again, she saw the almost arrogant expression on Ren's angular profile. She supposed he was pleased with the relief that starkly showed in her countenance—with the jealousy she had felt.

Kyoko opened her mouth. "You're a jerk," she said thickly.

He understood what she meant straightaway.

"Do not be ridiculous," Ren said sharply. "I hated that I hurt you, that I caused you to faint. There are no bigger regrets I will ever have." His midnight eyes raked her fine features. "I was content that I finally made you smile."

That shocked her. "_I_ was smiling?"

"Yes," he answered gently. "You were."

Kyoko was flabbergasted. She hadn't realised she was so obvious with her relief. It was humiliating, even.

And then something struck her.

"What's going to happen to your image?" Kyoko demanded urgently. Why hadn't she thought of this before? She had been so hurt by his kiss with Momose that she hadn't stopped to consider the adverse impact it had on his career. Never mind Sho's lawsuit, this was just as bad! "You kissed a woman that wasn't me! And a day ago, you told everyone that we—we were g…going to be parents. Won't the media say horrible things about you, that you're a philanderer?"

She saw Ren silently pause. And then—

"Go to sleep, darling," he said tenderly, stroking her hair from her forehead. "We will talk after you get some rest first."

Kyoko gave him an incredulous look, struggling to sit up from the examination table. "Are you _insane?_ I'm worried sick about you! The last thing I can do now is go to sleep!"

Ren's flawless lips flattened, and she could tell he was displeased. "Enough. We will talk of this later."

Kyoko knew then that he was hiding something big from her, and her anger flared.

"Tell me," she snapped. "What is the media saying about you and Momose and me? Or I will scream for Yashiro to come in and he'll tell me."

He gave her a level, cool look, and she flinched. Kyoko knew this was barely a fraction of the eerie expression he had on during his confrontation with Sho, but sudden discomfort crept into her belly.

"Do not threaten me, darling," Ren drawled warningly, his baritone voice velvety-smooth and hard. There was an ominous undertone to it that told her he meant exactly what he said. "I will not repeat myself after this. Lie back down, and rest."

She wasn't afraid. No, she wasn't afraid of him. She was intimidated, maybe, but she wasn't scared. Kyoko knew Ren would never hurt her.

"You're a jerk!" Kyoko cried out in uncharacteristic frustration. She punched his unmoving broad shoulders with her little fists. "Why won't you tell me? What the fuck are you hiding from me? What is the media saying about us? Are you scared it's something that might hurt me? For God's sake, I'll be _fine_—"

The reaction was immediate. She simply had to tempt fate.

Agony—a sudden cramp—exploded in her belly. It came out of absolutely nowhere, and she didn't even have a second to fully understand what was going on before the pain took over her body.

She gasped, uncoiled her fists, and let out a hoarse cry, falling back against the exam table. Vaguely she could hear a shocked Ren calling her name, his arms wrapping around her protectively, but she couldn't register it. The cramp was awful; she writhed on the surface of the table, clutching her belly.

The pain was like a blade tearing through her internal organs, her womb—

_No._

_The baby._

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N: ** This chapter is super late, and I'm sorry. At least it is pretty long! Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I love you all!


	12. Chapter 12

_:Chapter 12:_

She studied the pictures in her room.

Plastered across her bedroom walls were photographs of Tsuruga Ren. He was her idol, her one and only true love. Growing up she had idolized him. In fact, she had first heard of him a couple of years ago, after watching a much acclaimed action flick of his. It had been pretty spectacular, especially after seeing the kind of insane stunts he performed. He had been Superman as far as she was concerned—a higher being compared to other mere mortals. That was what it started out as; a mere hero-worship. And then her obsession grew, into something a little less healthy.

She began watching all his movies and his dramas. She wrote fervent, passionate reviews about them online under a fake username, making herself heard. She subscribed to his social media accounts (boosting followers of around a boggling sixty million in number), though his accounts weren't very active, being ran largely by his management. He wasn't the type who enjoyed sharing bits and pieces of his private life—even in interviews, Ren was remarkably noncommittal when it came to topics regarding personal matters. She would know, because she had watched all his interviews. She loved the way he talked, so smoothly and intelligently, with the deep baritone voice like crushed velvet. He wasn't like other celebrities. He was clever and erudite.

And she had all of Ren's pictures, too. All his photoshoots (he was every photographer's wet dream), and all candid photos of him. The man was glamorous in all angles. She loved him. She wanted him. He was hers, and no one else's.

He just wasn't aware of that yet.

And then she had seen his newest announcement.

He has gotten himself a new lover.

Oh, Ren had plenty of lovers before. She hated them, but not like this. The previous ones had been mere flings, she was sure. Men had needs, and she supposed he got his fix from those other women.

But this woman was different. She was _pregnant_. And he had announced it himself, stating he was expecting a child with her. This meant he was actually, of all things, settling down with someone. Tsuruga Ren, known for being a notorious playboy who enjoyed his freedom as a bachelor, was going to settle down with a woman who was nothing to look at, and had no credits to her name, too!

And then barely a day later, he had been caught kissing another woman.

She had already hated this other woman for a while. Momose Itsumi, who, together with him, had been known as the Golden Couple. She hadn't been sure whether to believe the rumors since there were always rumors about him that barely held substance. Still, she hated Itsumi Momose for getting to star in a love drama with him. Even if it was part of a film production, and was just for show for the cameras, she hated it. Ren had acted in many non-romantic films before that contained some love scenes with other women, but never like the ones with Momose, where the whole drama revolved around their characters' relationship. Therefore, her hatred towards Itsumi Momose solidified the moment photographers confirmed that they had kissed off-camera, a sign that a real relationship had taken place outside of the drama.

She sat on her bed, and stared at her print-out photos of Itsumi Momose and Ren's mysterious date at the Star Awards. Their eyes—one girl's blue and the other's brown—gazed coyly at her from the paper, almost taunting her.

She ran a knife through the photos, tearing a jagged hole through where their throats had been in the printed photograph.

Then she stared at the menacingly gleaming blade.

Yes, she was going to track both of them down, tie them up, then cut them up. Brutally.

And after she was done dissecting them, she would go after any other woman who might appear again in Ren's love life.

She'd see to it that they'd never be able to eat or walk or talk again.

* * *

It was late evening around the time the luxurious SUV pulled up into the garage of the three-storey modern terrace house that belonged to Tsuruga Ren, and the engine switched off. The car door next to the driver's seat opened, and the tall, dark-haired man stepped out, dressed in an expensive buttoned shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, and long, sinuous trousers. He radiated elegance and sleekness—the air of an aristocrat.

Carrying his car keys with him, the man stepped fluidly to the other door, the one by the passenger seat, and opened it. He undid its seatbelt, and then reached for the unmoving, petite, copper-haired female sitting in the shotgun, her body wrapped snugly under his velvet coat, which was overly large over her small body. Gently, as if he was carrying a newborn, he slid one hand under her thin knees, and the other around her shoulders so that her head and neck rested comfortably against his chest, then gathered the woman up into his arms.

Extending a long leg, he shut the car door with his foot, and then pressed the button on his car keys, locking the vehicle. The actor headed to the main door of his house and pressed his thumb to the fingerprint detector, careful not to jostle the sleeping woman in his arms. He waited several seconds, after which the detector turned green and beeped, and the oak door automatically unlocked.

Ren entered his home, allowing the moonlight illuminating his glass windows to guide him through the darkened lounge, although his well-trained eyes adjusted very quickly to the dimness. With his pregnant lover—covered by his coat which acted as a massive, makeshift blanket—still cradled in his protective embrace, he ascended the stairs swiftly and within a few moments, reached the landing and went to their bedroom.

He glided to the large, double bed situated at the centre of the opulent room, not bothering to turn on the lights. The moonlight streaming through the parted curtains were enough for him to see his surroundings, and besides, he was so attuned to the interior of his home that he could probably wander about it while blindfolded and still not bump into any of his intricate furniture. Ren was used to this—he was very alert to whichever form of environment he happened to be in, and always instinctively trained himself to adjust to them. It was important to be adaptable, as his own father had always taught him. This applied to not just acting as his profession, but also to social situations. People were different, so the ways of handling them and manipulating them varied as well.

But the outcome would be the same either way. He would see to it.

Ren lowered Kyoko gently onto the bed, making sure he rested her copper head carefully onto the plush surface of one of the two satin pillows on either side of the big, abundant mattress. The male undid her scarf and stripped off her jeans, tugging the denim expertly away from her slim legs without awakening her. She was so light that she had always worried him; it wasn't as if she was self-conscious about her weight, like many women he knew, but that her appetite seemed naturally very limited (despite her amazing culinary skills), though not as limited as his own, he reflected ruefully. Of course, it was not to mention that she hadn't eaten enough today. He should have called earlier in the afternoon and made sure she ate lunch before she left their home. Another mistake on his part, he thought annoyedly. If he had done it, things wouldn't have escalated into _this_.

It seemed too many of his mistakes were beginning to build up as of late.

He would have to rectify that. Soon.

Ren removed the velvet coat from where it was wrapped around Kyoko, draping it over his armchair, and replaced the material with their thick comforter. He pulled it over her miniature body, making sure she was warm and cosily tucked in. With that done, and after casting a quick, protective look at her sleeping form, he ventured sure-footedly to the spacious, lavish washroom, took out a clean towel from the cabinet, and wetted it with warm water under the tap, then wrung it out so that the fluid dripped fully from the cloth.

He went back to his beloved's bedside, and dabbed the towel at her blank face gently, letting the warm, damp cloth carry out its healing wonders against her chilly skin and currently low bodily temperature. She didn't so much as stir, but he could make out her chest rising and falling gently with her rhythmic breathing. Ren then spread out the small cloth over her forehead, adjusting it carefully so that the fabric didn't droop downwards and upset her eyelids, which were shut peacefully. He seated himself on the scarlet armchair by her bedside, picking up and taking her tiny hand in both of his own. It was so small in his, and freezing cold. He tightened his grip slightly, and brought it to his lips, kissing the small veins protruding slightly on the back of her slender hand tenderly.

Gastritis, and a case of chills, caused by overwhelming stress, exhaustion, and a lack of sustenance today. That was what Ruriko had diagnosed. And possibly far worse, if she hadn't fortunately collapsed right in the doctor's clinic, where treatment was immediate.

Ren tenderly kissed Kyoko's limp hand again, his obsidian eyes grim and dark as he studied her pale, pretty, sleeping face.

Kyoko hadn't miscarried, though Ruriko had commented she was very lucky. At this rate, judging by the amount of stress Kyoko was enduring, it was only a matter of time before a real miscarriage might befall her. She had cautioned Ren to make sure that Kyoko ate enough each day, and had sufficient sleep so as to keep her energized and nourished. The doctor had also bluntly advised that sexual intercourse should be held off for now due to Kyoko's currently delicate condition, though if her health and pregnancy stabilized in a month or so, they could resume their nightly activities. Ren was already regretting how vigorous he had been last night in bedding Kyoko. He was always gentle with her even prior to their pregnancy, knowing her exceptional fragility compared to most women, but the coupling was still often exuberant by nature, to say the least. Despite that, he had to hold back quite a bit of his carnal appetite to meet her limits—three rounds were about as far as Kyoko's strength could go, and he always made sure to take note of that, and to never exceed this number.

But that was before her pregnancy, and in the heat of the moment last night, he had forgotten it. Now that she was expectant, going as far as three rounds might prove too exhausting for her. It was just that seeing her in that beautiful, white bridal gown and the pale rose in her lovely copper hair had stirred his hunger the entire night at the Star Awards, and he had yearned for his lover throughout the whole event, although the actor ensured said need never surfaced into his pleasant, smiling demeanor in front of hundreds of other people. Kyoko herself hadn't been aware of how much he wanted her; but then, again, she was always so oblivious to many things. It exasperated and amused him.

He had wanted to touch her and to pleasure her more than anything else, to hunt her down inside their bedroom and to unzip her white tulle dress languidly, licking and kissing the feminine creamy skin that was exposed. Most men found foreplay an obstacle to what they deemed the actual highlight, but Ren found it just as delightful. Foreplay was an art, and he admired the arts, and excelled in them. Nothing was more arousing than orally servicing and tasting his little Kyoko—_nothing_. The look on her face was mesmerizing, especially when she peaked, her gorgeous doe eyes wide and dazed with bliss, her petal lips parted in abandon. He would love to orally stimulate her again and again to climax for endless rounds if not for the fact that Kyoko might end up too spent for the main event.

But this wasn't the time for that, now. He intended to heed Ruriko's advice very closely, to abstain from now on. But aside from that, Ren also intended to take meticulous care of Kyoko and protect her, maybe even hire some security in his home to keep her safe while he was not around, though he intended to cut down on his upcoming filming projects from now on. He had never needed or wanted security in his household before, being a rather solitary and skilled hunter when it came to physical combat, but now that he had a helpless mate to defend, things would have to change. He had expected some backlash after his announcement at the Star Awards, but the mess it had resulted in displeased him. Tremendously.

While it was satisfying in the sense that he had claimed and chained Kyoko to him, Momose's actions were deplorable. She had almost ruined and destroyed so many things, including the second life in his lover's belly.

He had been vaguely aware of Momose's feelings for some time (it was, after all, glaringly obvious), but had paid no attention to it. It had even slipped his mind frequently. He didn't have the time to entertain her. While Ren was used to handling women and their affections for him, and was also usually more tactful in either rejecting or accepting their attentions, he had been so consumed lately by Kyoko that he had completely neglected to handle the issue that was Momose. And now his negligence had resulted in this… monstrosity.

It was a pity, because he had liked her before. Platonically, naturally, but she had still been interesting enough. The actress was pretty, demure, and polite, and she never stepped out of line—until now. Ren had always assumed she was unlike most women in the show business, who were shallow, vain, fiercely headstrong, and mostly gold diggers. Normally, it wouldn't have been difficult for him to accurately gauge a person's character, but he had been negligent as of late, and so he had misread Momose, labelling her as insignificant and harmless. But he remained certain of one thing, and that was that the blonde didn't have the smarts alone to be able to easily manipulate the circumstances into her favor like she had done today with the kiss.

Someone else had aided her, maybe given her the idea.

However, identifying that person could wait, though he was certain he would find out sooner or later with more rumination. For now, Ren needed to resolve this situation, and clear things up, and as a bonus, make even his score with Momose.

How audacious of her, to, of all people, try to manipulate _him_ today, and to hurt what was his. Did she even know whom she had tried to outwit today?

The corner of his sculpted lips curled, shrewd obsidan eyes glinting.

His plans were made—had been made for a while now.

Ren's calloused thumb caressed the fine, diminutive bones of Kyoko's knuckles.

Fear. When was the last time he had felt that?

Ren had become used to exercising perfect control over the circumstances in his life that he had long abandoned the vulnerable sense of fear, and instead allowed himself the mindset of either win or lose. Fear were for those who sensed defeat on the horizon. If he felt fear, then he was giving in to the prospect of failure. Ren had not felt that way in a long while. He viewed many situations in life extremely coldly whereby he was either seizing the upper hand, or he was rectifying the situation so that he was. Those were the only two options.

But discomfiting fear had trickled in for the first time in years when Kyoko had cried out in pain earlier on the examination table. He had embraced her at once, keen to absorb every ounce of agony in her delicate frame so that he could bear it for her. Unfortunately, that was hardly possible. Before long, her petite body had abruptly stilled, then went limp in his arms, and her head had lolled back as she lost consciousness.

Fear had evolved into terror.

He didn't allow it to show—he couldn't. It would help no one. Ren had called for Ruriko immediately, and the doctor, along with a stunned Yashiro, had rushed in, having heard Kyoko's agonized cries. Ren's baritone voice had been ice-cold as he instructed the medical practitioner to attend to an unmoving Kyoko immediately, all the while calmly reciting her symptoms in low, velvety, unfazed tones. Within moments, Kyoko was hooked to an IV drip bag, and Ruriko was monitoring her condition, seeing to her treatment. Ruriko had explained she had to be extremely careful in her choice of medication for Kyoko's gastritis due to her pregnancy; most drugs could be dangerous for her health throughout her gestation period. She had also mostly likely passed out due to stress and fatigue, she added.

Ren placed Kyoko's hand softly back onto the bed now, then glided with catlike elegance to the mini wine cooler located in the corner of the bedroom. Lifting out a bottle of wine, he poured it into the exquisite wine glass on his timber study table, his other adroit hand flicking on the switch of the amber lamp. Golden liquid flowed into the crystal curve of the glass, and he picked it up with a swift motion of his long, spidery fingers, then brought the brim to his perfect, aristocratic lips.

He intended to watch over Kyoko the rest of the night. Sleep could wait. Tsuruga Ren was used to sleepless nights—being an actor who played critical roles in movies and dramas that included tedious, hellish working hours had trained him and whipped him right into shape. He intently examined Kyoko's slumbering face, which was partly covered by the cloth he had placed on her forehead. She looked so tranquil, so free of the stress that had plagued her. He wanted it this way forever; he regarded Momose, the media, and himself with severe contempt for having rendered Kyoko in such a state. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but from what he could see under the dimmed amber lighting, she appeared less pale. A positive sign, he noted with satisfaction.

Ren's sharp ears caught the sound of his phone vibrating. It was coming from the pockets of his velvet coat, which was draped over the plush armchair he had been seated on just minutes ago.

Turning off the light so that it wouldn't disturb his lover, Ren went over to the coat, then nimbly fished the device out, one slender hand still carrying the half-filled wine glass.

_President Lory._

Why was he not surprised? It was about time Lory would call, considering the almost-scandal that had taken the media by storm throughout the past few hours. Ren had also postponed many of his filming projects today so that he could see to Kyoko; the directors and producers had been very understanding and compliant, as they were with big shots in the entertainment industry, and less so with lower-standing actors.

Ren remained where he was, not wanting to be away from Kyoko. He needed to monitor her throughout the night, and to make sure she remained stable. She had fainted twice today, and he didn't have to be a doctor to know it took a dangerous toil on her health. He descended upon the armchair, crossing his long legs regally and putting the wine glass down on the bed stand, his dark, possessive eyes never leaving Kyoko's face.

He took the call, albeit in a low voice. "Tsuruga Ren speaking."

"Ren." Lory sounded chiding. "You weren't planning on calling me at all, were you?"

Ren murmured, "I apologize. Today was hectic, and I couldn't find the time to call."

"_Hectic_ barely describes your situation. Still, as your President, I should hope to receive your personal clarification other than the report from your manager," Lory censured him. Ren could hear him sipping a drink as well—probably brandy, one of the President's favourites. Classical music was playing in the background. The President was likely playing it from his custom-installed speakers in his extravagant home. "According to Yashiro, the photos leaked today do not indicate any relationship between yourself and Miss Momose. Am I correct?"

"Yes," Ren said politely. "I believe Yashiro-san has reported to you that what the photos depicted was an initiation from her part."

"An initiation that was not reciprocated?"

"Regretfully, not at all."

"And the woman you brought to the Star Awards?"

"The mother of my child."

"So it _is_ true," Lory said sharply.

"I could hardly lie on television, President," Ren remarked amusedly. He was gently stroking Kyoko's tousled copper hair with one hand, smoothing it away from her face.

"You make a living out of it," Lory countered, undeterred. "The rumor going around the country is that she blackmailed you and coerced you into a relationship by using the baby. But I highly doubt you are the kind of man who would fall prey to a woman."

"It seems I did today, to Miss Momose," Ren said wryly, still watching Kyoko's resting features with the intensity of a devoted guardian angel.

"I know you, Ren. Others might not, but I do. You're going to hurt her for what she did to you, aren't you?"

"I? I won't touch a hair of her head."

"Not you directly," Lory said, and he paused. "Don't do it, Ren. Let your publicist handle this one. It won't be too hard for her to clean this mess up. In the meantime, just don't do anything."

"I am hardly a child, President," Ren replied sardonically.

"To me," Lory sighed, "and your parents, you will always be their child."

"My parents?" Ren's sleek, baritone voice became smoother, a sign that would have disconcerted most people.

"Your mother is in Tokyo, Ren. She's looking for you. Nobody from the press or the media even knows she just left the US. She practically smuggled herself into the country under a disguise. She's good at that."

Ren concealed his surprise, keeping himself even and politely interested. "She came looking for you, I presume."

"Yes. I still disapprove, by the way, how you hide everything from your family. Your phone number, your address, all of it. Because of that, she can't contact you. Naturally she came to the agency."

"I apologize deeply for inconveniencing you," Ren said courteously.

"Oh, it's not about that, and you know it. Don't cut yourself off like that, Ren. She loves you. I know you first cut yourself off because you wanted independence all those years ago, but that time is over. You've long gotten what you wanted. She heard the news, Ren. She wants to see you. I didn't tell her where you lived or your number out of respect for you, but I believe you should be the one to reach out to her instead. I have her number. She wants you to call her."

"Ah," Ren murmured.

"And if you what you said at the Awards was true, then she is going to become a grandmother soon. And Kuu a grandfather."

"I have plans to inform them soon."

"When? When the baby is born?" Lory clicked his tongue in disapprobation. "Try and meet your mother soon, Ren. Let her know. And I assume you and this… delightful lady will be marrying soon? I want to know as much as I can about her."

"First things first, President," Ren said calmly. "I will need to speak to Julie soon. Please give me her number."

* * *

Kyoko slowly stirred, her eyelids—so heavy they felt like deadweight—lifting.

It took a while for her vision to focus. Sunlight filtered into the bedroom, illuminating the familiar outline of the luxurious, expensive furniture around her.

She was in her room. Well, technically, Ren's bedroom.

"You're awake."

Kyoko stiffened, blinking drowsily at the voice. She sat up on the satin poster bed, her limbs feeling like cardboard beneath the thick comforter and her copper head slightly sore. The female stared incredulously at the tall, slender, black-haired beauty standing at the doorway of the room, holding a tray of steaming food. She was alluringly fashionable as always, wearing a tight-fitting, ebony wrap dress, her lips a gorgeous shade of pink and her eyes hooded by long, mascaraed lashes.

"Moko-san?" Kyoko croaked.

Was she dreaming? What was _Kanae_ doing in Ren's house? Never in Kyoko's life had she ever envisioned the possibility of Kanae standing inside Ren and her love nest. She wasn't even aware Kanae and Ren had ever spoken directly to each other before, despite being in the same business. They'd never collaborated with each other in any filming projects, as far as Kyoko knew, much less be personal friends. Kanae was just a small-time actress compared to Ren's big shot, A-list status in the entertainment industry. The only times they probably had met were in parties and events—times where the venues were filled with other people, which barely gave the pair a chance to exchange anything more than pleasantries, if they talked at all. So how had Kanae actually gotten into Ren's place of residence? Kyoko, out of respect for Ren's privacy, had never told Kanae where he lived. Wild thoughts flitted through Kyoko's mind. Had Kanae broken in? Where was Ren, anyway? Why couldn't she remember anything?

"Tsuruga-san asked me to come here and take care of you while he's gone," Kanae said dryly, as if reading her mind. "He's at work. And for your information, the baby is fine. You didn't miscarry. I thought you'd like to know that before you start freaking out."

Kyoko's head reeled.

Miscarry…?

It all rushed to her head then. She gripped her comforter, feeling cold panic constrict her airways.

She had been on the examination table, together with Ren, when the terrible pain had seized her belly. She'd never felt anything like it, and could only writhe in helpless agony on the table, tears blurring her eyes. Her instantaneous reaction was mounting hysteria for the baby's welfare, and regret that she hadn't done anything to take good care of herself. She'd worked herself up the whole day, had barely eaten, and then had refused to listen to Ren's command to try to rest back at the clinic. Her only thoughts were that if she lost the baby, it would be her own stupid fault. Kyoko knew she should have treasured what she had worked so hard to achieve. Instead, she had taken her pregnancy for granted, and that was the last regret in her head before her consciousness faded, and all went black.

"I didn't…?" Kyoko choked out painfully.

"No," Kanae said exasperatedly, walking over. "The doctor said you had gastritis. But you will miscarry if you keep starving yourself. Time for brunch."

"The gastritis didn't hurt the baby?" Kyoko asked anxiously, placing her hand over her flat, silk-covered abdomen.

"No. But if you continue starving yourself, you will."

She lowered the large tray onto Kyoko's knees, the tray held up by four curled feet that rested on the comforter. Kyoko stared down at the bowl of soup noodles and broccoli, with a pair of wooden chopsticks resting beside it on the plastic surface of the tray.

It smelled delicious.

"Moko-san, you… cooked this?" Kyoko asked disbelievingly. That was ridiculous. As far as she knew, Kanae's culinary skills were nada.

"Not me. My cook at home did, and I packed it here," Kanae said impatiently. "She's taking care of Coco for me so I can be your nanny today. Now are you going to eat or not?"

Kyoko nodded meekly. She was starved, now that she thought of it. Picking up the chopsticks, she tucked in, slurping the succulent noodles like a madwoman, and drinking the flavorful, warm soup greedily. It soothed her soul, filling her ravenous belly, and she twirled her chopsticks, fishing out more broccoli to crunch on them. Give it a few more bites, and she might feel almost back to normal.

Once she surfaced for air a few minutes later, she managed to ask, "What happened? Why am I here? Did Tsuruga-san bring me back home?"

"Hell if I know," Kanae retorted. "You'd better ask him yourself when he comes home later. All I'm aware of is that he called me here, asked me to take care of you, and then explained to me several things I wanted to understand."

"He called _you_? And what things?" Kyoko said in a muffled voice, her mouth packed with sumptuous noodles. She swallowed dejectedly, feeling disappointed that Ren wasn't around.

She missed him fiercely like an addict craving for a drug fix, but at the same time, didn't know how to face him either.

Kanae sat down on a plush, red armchair next to the bed, then crossed her long, shapely legs boredly. "Where should I start? How about the fact that he announced your pregnancy to the media? To the world, actually? I wanted to know what happened. You didn't want him to know your pregnancy. I was shocked. Have you changed your mind, after all? All that, he explained it all to me."

"He…" Kyoko stared at her bowl. "He found out. I don't know how, but he did, Moko-san."

"Kyoko…" Kanae looked hesitant, then she spoke again. "I have something to tell you."

Kyoko's hazel eyes largened. "What do you mean?"

"Before that, I want to swear to you that I didn't tell him anything at all save for this one thing," Kanae said quietly. "Can you trust me on that?"

"What is it?" Kyoko chewed her lip anxiously.

"The day you quit birth control…" Kanae gave her a wan, wary look. "I told him."

_"What?"_

Kyoko nearly spilled the contents in her bowl onto her tray. Her hands were trembling in utter shock, and she had to put her chopsticks back onto the tray, and take deep breaths to compose herself.

Kanae had spoken to Ren?

"I'm sorry," Kanae sighed. "I was in the wrong there. That's all I ever told him, I promise. But I wanted to protect you."

"Protect _me?_"

"Yes," Kanae said, her voice unrevealing. "From committing something you will grow to regret. I know you, Kyoko. You may think you'll be fine, but you won't. What you did was unfair, unethical, and something that will haunt you with guilt forever had he really not known. His own actions aside, you used a man without his consent or knowledge to meet your own needs. You wanted a baby, but to force a man to father one when he doesn't even know is cruel. Even if you didn't intend to share the baby with him, he deserves a right to know. A relationship is based on mutual respect. By doing what you did, it would have shown that you never respected him—or his freedom to know about his own child."

Looking at the tears filling Kyoko's eyes, Kanae hastily added, "That's not to say he wasn't wrong either. The both of you have definitely wronged each other. But at the very least, I wanted to protect you from making your mistakes. Being a victim of someone else's wrongdoing is horrible, Kyoko, but being haunted by your own wrongdoing can be far worse."

The black-haired female leaned over, and took the food tray from Kyoko's stunned, small hands, before setting it on the bed stand.

Kyoko wasn't sure what to feel. She understood what her best friend was saying. Yes, it had been wrong of Kanae to speak to Ren behind her back, but now that she thought of the possible consequences, her blood chilled. She might have possibly become pregnant without Ren knowing—though she doubted it. Even without Kanae's tip, he might still have suspected something, and deduced it himself, seeing how astute and clever he was. But that aside, if she had somehow managed to escape with the baby from Ren's grasp, could she have lived with it? For years and years to come, she would raise her child knowing she had tricked its father. She had tricked the man she loved. Somewhere out there, he would be living his life, unaware that he had succumbed to a woman's deception (again, that was unlikely, given Ren's intelligence, but still). Could she love and raise her baby knowing she had been so cruel towards the man she loved, and had, as Kanae said, robbed him of his freedom and rights as a father?

This wasn't about whether he wanted the child. If he didn't want it, he deserved to at least know, then reject the child. But it was still his right to know.

"What he did to you was wrong too, Kyoko," Kanae was saying. "He shouldn't have announced your pregnancy publicly when you didn't even know of his plans. But at the very least…"

She hesitated.

"What is it?" Kyoko asked forlornly. She was staring at her comforter unhappily.

"When I married Hiou, we didn't release the news of our marriage for a long time," Kanae said tartly. "I was fine with it, or at least, I thought I was. A lot of popular actors do it. They hide that they're in a relationship from the press, so that they can still give off a desirable image to the public. A bachelor means marketability. So naturally, when Hiou's manager proposed it to me, I said yes. Hiou was shocked, but I didn't get the issue. His career was important to me, you know.

But then I had to face watching him go to award shows with other women as his dates. I was with another date too. It was just as friends, you know, but those women didn't know he was attached. They flirted with him right on television and right in front of me, touching his hair, touching him in places I wanted to—"

Kanae drew in a deep breath, then loosened her manicured hands from the fists she had made.

"Moko-san," Kyoko said gently. "I'm sorry. You never told me."

"Oh please, it's not as if I was _that_ worried," Kanae said haughtily, flipping her lustrous black mane over her shoulder. "I trust him. And later on, he decided, against his manager's decision, to let the world know about our relationship. He didn't like it either."

Kyoko listened, her heart pounding. She tried to imagine Ren, surrounded by dozens of glamorous women, invading his personal space as they tried to win his affections. That should be pretty common to him wherever he went, be it at film sets or events, and her chest hurt at the thought. But that night at the Star Awards, after stating very clearly that Kyoko was carrying his child, no woman had done it to him (save for Momose yesterday, but that was an exception). Oh, Kyoko had seen plenty of his exes sidling up to him, but with Kyoko right by his arm as his date, they evidently knew that he was taken for now, and other than a few coy remarks, they had left him alone.

With his announcement during his winner's speech, Ren had made it clear that he had a new lover, and that he was thereby off the market. He hadn't cared about his marketability in the entertainment industry, or how his image could be affected. Shotaro had. It was very important to Shotaro that he remained a bachelor in the public's eyes, so as to maintain his appeal and the public's attraction to him. A few flings with various girls were fine, but a long-standing relationship? That was out of the question, let alone revealing that he was going to become a father. But this hadn't mattered to Ren. He had marked his territory, and at the same time, helped Kyoko mark hers during his winner's speech.

Despite her shock and anger at what Ren had done by revealing something he hadn't even discussed her with beforehand, she felt something else, something she shouldn't be feeling at all, since Ren wasn't even hers.

Relief.

This was wrong. Wrong! How could she feel relieved and maybe even touched when he had disrespected her own rights as a human being to keep her pregnancy private?

"Also, he explained to me about the kiss, Kyoko," Kanae said briskly. "He said Itsumi Momose initiated it. Do you believe him?"

"I…" Kyoko's lips tightened, and she looked at Kanae squarely in the eye. "I do. I don't think he was the one who initiated the kiss."

_I don't want to think anything else._

"But there's one thing I want to know," Kyoko continued hoarsely. "What is the media saying about me and Ren? I know it's bad. He didn't want to tell me."

Kanae looked grim. "Then wait until he comes back. Tsuruga-san will tell you himself. This isn't my place to say. You guys have a lot of talking to do, you know. He said he'll be back in the late afternoon after clearing up some work issues so that he can take care of you and talk to you later; apparently, he cancelled a lot of his projects today. I'm guessing he watched over you all night—it's hard to tell since he always looks so damned perfect, but I have a feeling he didn't sleep the whole night yesterday."

Kyoko's pulse raced. Ren must have brought her home last night from the clinic. And he must really be postponing a lot of his projects for her sake, since he was always home way past dinnertime due to his demanding film schedules. Coming home so early in the afternoon was an anomaly for Ren, who was absent for many hours everyday. She felt a spurt of worry. He was always overworking himself, and he barely ate enough as it was despite his muscled, intimidating frame. Now Kanae was saying he hadn't slept because he had been taking care of Kyoko all night long? Not to mention yesterday had to be just as harrowing for him as it had been for Kyoko! He had been thrown into an almost-scandal with Momose that took the country by storm, had gotten into a fist fight with Sho, then nearly been faced with a lawsuit, and still had to take care of Kyoko, all of it in one day. How was it not exhausting for anyone?

She had to pay him back somehow.

Kyoko ripped the comforter off her legs, and stood up from the bed. She was wearing nothing but a long-sleeved cardigan and panties (quite a change from her usual night wear with Ren, which was, very often, nothing at all), and yet she still felt oddly naked in front of her best friend, but suppressed the feeling.

"What are you doing?" Kanae asked in alarm.

"Going to the supermarket," Kyoko said calmly, pulling open the wardrobe she shared with Ren. "I'm going to cook today."

"Are you insane? Tsuruga-san made it clear he wants you to rest at home today! I'm supposed to be taking care of you!"

"Then come with me and take care of me along the way," Kyoko said firmly. "I'm fine now. You have your car, right? Can you bring me to the most expensive grocery store there is around here? I want to make something really good for him."

Ren might never admit it, Kyoko thought, but she knew he had luxurious tastes in his meals. He was born of a higher, more patrician class than most people, and although he would never belittle anyone's cooking nor their culinary offerings, Kyoko knew his palate was sophisticated and difficult to truly satisfy, despite his politeness. Ren seemed to genuinely enjoy Kyoko's cooking, but she was aware nothing pleased him more than a glass of red wine, some salad, and steak.

If she had to whip up something lavish and costly from her own pocket to thank him for everything he had done for her, then so be it.

* * *

"This isn't what Tsuruga-san wants, Kyoko," Kanae said exasperatedly as they got out of Kanae's sedan, shut the car doors, and strode to the pavement towards a particularly upper-class grocery store in town. Kyoko knew personally that Ren bought most of his groceries at this very supermarket, it being his customary place to shop, and naturally, it was way, way out of Kyoko's budget. However, she was determined to make him content today, and maybe soften him up for their imminent discussion later—which she hoped fervently would turn in her favor. Dressed in a suede jacket and her old, favorite sundress under it, she felt more confident than she had been in a long while, and physically a lot better. Her headache was gone.

Kanae was still talking, swinging her car keys annoyedly. "If you really want to repay Tsuruga-san, then stay at home and rest. Don't make him more worried for you than he already is. He doesn't want you wandering outside or cooking for him or whatever—"

"You still came with me," Kyoko reminded her.

"Yes, because I know I can't stop you from throwing a tantrum at home and ultimately hurting yourself if I refuse you," Kanae said frustratedly, behind her shades. Her handbag was hung over a regal shoulder. "Do you really want to miscarry, Kyoko?"

"I won't," Kyoko assured her, "because you're here with me."

She made her way to the entrance of the expensive supermarket, only to stop when she saw a woman and a man come out of it.

The man was big and burly and wore a suit. He was clearly a security guard or bodyguard of some sort, judging by his sunglasses and the black, professional earpiece clipped to his ear. He was helping the woman carry a few grocery bags.

The woman was beautiful.

Not that Kyoko could see much of her face, since it was obscured by Chanel sunglasses and a branded, designer scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face delicately. She wore a leopard-print pencil dress—which probably cost more than Kyoko's own apartment unit—that fit her generous curves snugly, and six-inch, high-heeled pumps. Despite the mind-boggling height of those heels, she walked in them with a grace and elegance Kyoko had never emanated even while walking in flat shoes. She reminded Kyoko almost of a dancer in the self-assured, fluid, artistic way she walked—like a supermodel who knew exactly how to coordinate her long, slender limbs.

Her hair was mesmerizing. Long, luscious waves of silken gold cascaded down her shoulders. She was evidently Caucasian, judging by her dazzling, miky-white skin and the beauty in the mane of corn-colored satin flowing down her curvaceous body. Her face might be concealed, but Kyoko had a feeling she was very, very attractive under her sunglasses and makeshift mask.

Ethereally attractive, like an angel or fairy.

Then the woman halted, and despite her shades, Kyoko could tell she was looking straight at her.

"Who—?" Kanae appeared just as stupefied as Kyoko was by the woman's alluring presence.

The woman suddenly stalked over to Kyoko, her guard trailing after her obediently, still carrying her groceries.

Kyoko blinked, unable to react. She could smell the lady's heavy perfume.

"I recognise you," the woman declared coldly, and her voice was thickly punctuated with an American accent, despite her fluent Japanese. "You're the woman my baby brought to the Star Awards that night. So _you're_ the wench who threatened him and blackmailed him."

And with that, she whipped out a hand—filled with talon-like, red nails—and slapped Kyoko.

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N: **Hey guys, this is totally late, but I hope all of you had a great New Year! Thanks for your comments, to all my previous reviewers. I appreciate it!

Also, back in 2014, around two years ago, I wrote an original story with a friend. It's called "Welcome to the Obsidian", and we just uploaded it on Wattpad lately! It would mean sooo much to me if you guys can go check it out! It's a romantic suspense story with paranormal and thriller elements. There's a hot male love interest in it too, for those of us who like romance (I'm sure we all do. Romance is the best).


	13. Chapter 13

_:Chapter 13:_

The two men strode through the parking lot, their polished shoes clicking against the concrete.

It had been a long morning, Yashiro thought. They had gone through one meeting after another consecutively with Ren's publicist, his agent, the directors of his film projects, and finally, with President Lory at the LME agency headquarters. The last meeting was definitely the worst and the most challenging, since President Lory was not easily deceived or strung along by Ren's charms, unlike his publicist, agent, and the film directors. Ren seemed to know that, too, since his attitude always changed when he spoke to Lory. He was still as polite and gracious as ever, but Yashiro could see that he wasn't putting in any effort to try to charm Lory. When dealing with the President, a different kind of mask had to be carefully guarded over one's face, for Lory was as sneaky, knowing, and manipulative as Ren himself could be. Instead of being charismatic, one had to be cautious instead in making sure nothing excessive was revealed, for the President could use it against you. One, too, had to be perceptive enough to decipher when the President was planning something.

During the meeting, the President had wanted to know more about the 'mysterious' girl who was pregnant with Ren's child. Lory had tried to press Yashiro privately for details about Kyoko, but Yashiro had said reluctantly that this was for Ren personally to explain. To his relief, Lory had agreed with his assessment and left him alone, but today was the inevitable day where Ren had to spill the beans himself.

"Her name is Mogami Kyoko," he had said quietly, at the meeting. "I do not wish to reveal her name to the public yet. I want to grant her at least that modicum of privacy."

_And protection_, Yashiro thought. The media and Ren's jealous ex-lovers might investigate and hunt Kyoko down if they knew her name.

"And how long have you been seeing her?" Lory asked. He had been seated on the armchair of his office, dressed flamboyantly in Samurai armor and nonchalantly sipping a clay cup of tea with a padded hand. Yashiro had been initially taken aback upon spotting what the President was wearing today, despite how often Lory always donned strange, extravagant costumes. This time, it was easy to tell the theme of his garments, seeing the heavy, leather-plated helmet resting over his head, the chest armor, and the kuzasuri, which formed the lower portion of the armor, along with thigh guards which were knotted around his waist and concealed his thighs. Of course, the sheathed katana—an authentic, invaluable piece of antique that should belong to a museum, Yashiro knew—resting against his armchair was the centerpiece of the Samurai theme.

"Almost two months," Ren responded candidly.

Lory's cup of tea lowered, a hint of surprise showing in his mustached face—or what Yashiro could see of it, anyway, from under the old-fashioned helmet. "She passed the one month mark?"

Yashiro understood immediately what he meant. Most of Ren's former lovers never made it past a month before Ren broke up with them, albeit very gently and apologetically. Now and then there would come a new woman who turned out to be an exception, only to last a few more days beyond the infamous 'one month mark' before her highly-sought place in his bed was still either replaced or denied her. If Ren was to follow his usual custom, his break-up with Kyoko should happen soon. Yashiro suspected it wasn't actually a conscious decision on Ren's part to end things with his lovers the moment the one month mark arrived; it wasn't like he checked the calendar daily, counting the amount of time left until the end of said month. However, a month was as long as Ren's attention could subconsciously take being consistently fixed on a woman he was merely fond of and only somewhat attracted to. As this was what he felt towards all his bedmates, it was natural their days together were numbered. But with Kyoko, Yashiro wasn't sure if the intensity of his feelings towards the copper-haired girl was just lukewarm attraction like with her predecessors, or something more. Somehow, though, he doubted it to be the former.

"Yeah, Mogami Kyoko's way past the one month mark," Yashiro said sagely, sipping his own clay cup of steaming tea that Lory had each offered them. Savoring the taste of hot, fresh jasmine slightly scalding his tongue, he added, "This one's a little different from the rest, and I don't just mean that she passed the one month mark. We know there are women who passed it before with Ren. But she's different from even them."

"You mean, like the fact that she's carrying his child?" Lory asked impishly.

"Er, yes," Yashiro said, feeling a bit embarrassed. He hastily adjusted his spectacles. "Yes, that might be it."

"Which brings me to another point." Lory put down his drink on the table, and swung his armored arms out wide. "How _did_ this happen?"

The air turned awkward almost instantly, and Yashiro felt his face turn pink and wooden at the same time. Wasn't it obvious?

"How curious, President," Ren commented wryly. "You are the last person I would expect to require sex education."

"Not that," Lory snorted impatiently. "Quit playing the fool. You know exactly what I mean. You always take extreme precautions to make sure such… accidents like this don't happen, Ren. So how did this girl get pregnant?"

Yashiro felt curiosity well up inside him. Lory had made an excellent point. Many females had visited Ren's bed, and yet none of them had actually gotten pregnant. Ren was way too clever to let such mishaps occur. Although Yashiro didn't know the exact details, he was aware Ren would never count on his lovers taking birth control as a safety net—there were just too many scheming women out there who wanted nothing more than to carry Tsuruga Ren's child so as to seize a permanent position in his life, not to mention have access to his wealth and fame. As this was the case, Ren would always utilize protection himself, despite his partners' protests and claims that they had already taken birth control. It was just safer that way. Not that Ren had ever told him all this, of course, being very tight-lipped about his personal life, but Yashiro had secretly overheard a lot of women talking about said topic before. Naturally, Yashiro would never admit he knew so much about Ren's sex life from eavesdropping on ladies' gossip to said actor. It was just plain awkward. It was better to just pretend he was privy to nothing.

A pause followed Lory's words, and finally, Ren spoke, his deep, velvety voice even and thoughtful.

"What if I told you," he murmured, "that I knew she wasn't using birth control, but I did it with her anyway, without using protection on my part?"

"_What?_" Yashiro burst out in shock, nearly spitting out all his tea. "You mean… This wasn't really just an accident?"

All along he had just assumed the baby was a mishap. Contraception pills and condoms weren't a hundred percent foolproof, after all, and sometimes mistakes could fall through. Now he realised how naïve he had been. Yashiro was sure Ren would have found a way around that if he wanted to. There were plenty of other methods out there that could still combat the tiny percentage of risk that condoms might not be able to cover, and Ren had most certainly mastered them all, hence he had never accidentally impregnated anyone before... until now.

This baby had not been an accident.

"What do you mean, this girl wasn't taking birth control?" Lory said sharply. "She was scheming all along for this to happen? Are you saying she hoped to use the baby to bind you to her permanently, after all?"

Yashiro stared at Ren, his mouth agape. No. It couldn't be! Kyoko wasn't this sort of girl. She wasn't shallow and cruel like that; she looked so innocent, kind, and insecure, in Yashiro's opinion. No one could be that good of an actress. How could she scheme anything? While he had suspected for some time now that there was more to her relationship with Ren than met the eye, he hadn't expected it to be about the mysterious truth behind Kyoko's pregnancy, or that there had even been an unknown truth behind it at all. His mind raced as he thought back to how shocked and… _afraid_ Kyoko had looked when Ren had announced her pregnancy to the media that night. Yashiro had dismissed her fears as just anxiety and nerves about the inevitable news breaking out. Anyone would be jittery when announcing their pregnancy, let alone to the press and to the entire world. However, now that he thought hard about it, what if this hadn't been the reason? What if she had looked frightened because of something else?

Had it been… guilt?

"Anything I should say now, President, does not leave this room," Ren said calmly. "That is my request."

"Very well." Lory folded his arms, the metallic plates of his armor clinking imperiously. "Besides, how many of your secrets have I hidden for you, Ren? You owe at least this information to me."

Yashiro didn't mind if they forgot about his presence in Lory's office, so long as he got the scoop, too. He leaned forward in his seat, tensing with anticipation like an eager housewife for some gossip.

"She did hope to become pregnant," Ren said simply. "However, you are utterly mistaken about her motives. They are opposite what you believe."

"Opposite? You mean she _doesn't_ want to bind you to her?" Yashiro demanded incredulously.

Was there any woman out there who didn't?

Ren sipped his tea serenely. "That is all I have to say."

"What?" Yashiro sounded immensely indignant. "You can't just end your story here! You only just began!"

Ren continued sampling his cup of tea contentedly, his long legs, clad in black tailored dress pants, crossed elegantly from where he sat. It was evident from his silence that he did not intend to reveal anything more, much to Yashiro's frustration.

"Fine," Lory commented dryly. "I will find out the truth my own way, Ren."

"Hmm. I understand, President."

Yashiro wanted to object, but before he could demand that Ren tell him more, Lory was speaking again. "And have you contacted your mother, Ren?"

Again, the change in subject engendered a great deal of curiosity from Yashiro's part.

Ren's family had always been a mystery to Yashiro, despite the latter being his manager for many years. Ren's past was as enigmatic as himself; he rarely talked about his life before he joined show business, nor his relatives, though Yashiro surmised he had come from a rich family, judging by his markedly expensive tastes in lifestyle. The facts that Ren knew all designer brands of consumer products (his wardrobe, his accessories, and his car), was familiar with fancy, lavish types of culinary offerings during mealtimes, and had connections with various high-standing public figures were signs he grew up in a wealthy household. This did not mean he was pampered or spoilt, however. He was a hard worker, was fiercely independent, and behaved maturely like an adult who believed in the fruits of his labor, rather than to sit there idly and receive. It was hard to find fault with Ren, except he was so non-committal about his private life that it often exasperated Yashiro. Shouldn't friends at least know more about each other?

"Yes," Ren said reservedly, in response to Lory's query. "I left her a text message, asking her to call me. She has yet to do so as of now."

Lory seemed satisfied with his answer. "Well, I suppose coming from you, that's something. Alright then. Anyway, what are your plans for today?"

Yashiro rubbed his forehead tiredly. "He's going to Manaka's luncheon today, President."

Lory's eyes widened in uncharacteristic surprise. "Excuse me?"

Manaka's luncheons were well-known occasions to the LME Agency as well as in the entertainment industry. Manaka was a famous, young, wealthy socialite (daughter of a prominent media mogul) who had once briefly dated Ren, and had never gotten over him. In Yashiro's opinion, she was simply insane. Since their break-up, she had continued pining over him publicly, declaring in interviews and on her social media accounts that she loved him—and would always love him—more than anyone else. She was his number one fan. Yashiro suspected that the young, infatuated celebrity kept an elaborate shrine of Ren's photos and old belongings from when they dated in her bedroom, judging by how psychotic she was. His suspicions were later confirmed by a few women who had been invited to her infamous luncheons.

These ladies' luncheons, organized by Manaka, invited many of Ren's other former lovers, bringing his past harem together ironically. Since they were all just exes as well instead of his present flames, there was only tension and some competition between them, but no bad blood. Most of the guests attended her luncheons, designed to discuss Ren, out of amusement more than anything else. Yashiro supposed rich, female socialites with nothing better to do loved those kind of luncheons. Ren, on the other hand, had always steered clear of them and anything else related to Manaka, despite Manaka's public pleas that he come as well.

Each year, the number of guests who went to Manaka's luncheon dwindled, since their amusement and interest in Manaka's psychotic, obsessive ways had faded over time. Plenty of people dismissed her as an insignificant wacko, and few believed in anything she said anymore. A few days ago, she had invited Itsumi Momose to her outing today (it seemed Momose had joined the ranks of being one of Ren's love interests now, albeit in the past or present), as well as the same few other women. Yashiro guessed Momose had rejected her invitation.

And now Ren was saying he was going to the luncheon, after years of avoiding Manaka? What was going on?

He had been acting strangely since the media storm yesterday. When Yashiro had told him to release a personal statement today to clear up the facts that he and Momose were not, in fact, dating, and that Kyoko hadn't been blackmailing Ren, he had replied that the 'time was not yet right'. He was definitely planning something, but Yashiro had no idea what.

But something told Yashiro, as he walked beside Ren in the parking lot, that whatever he was planning, it showed that the dark beast within Ren was no longer, in any sense, caged.

* * *

Kyoko clasped her reddened cheek, gaping in shock as she stared at the golden-haired, buxom beauty.

There was a thick pause, heavy and laden with cold tension. And then—

"Why the hell did you do that to Kyoko?" Kanae shrieked, leaping forward. "You bitch!"

She tried to attack the other woman, but was intercepted by her burly bodyguard, who fended her off easily, despite the grocery bags hanging from one of his arms. The bodyguard was about twice Kanae's size, and her punches and blows fell harmlessly on his broad, beefy shoulders from where he stood protectively in front of the golden-haired woman. No matter how Kanae tried to edge past him to get to the woman, the bodyguard would shift sideways as well, blocking her movements.

"Moko-san, stop!" Kyoko shouted. "I'm fine, so please, just stop—"

This was bad. Thanks to all the commotion earlier when the beautiful blonde woman had slapped her, a crowd of curious civilians exiting the grocery store and passing by the roadside had formed all around them, lifting their phone cameras as they filmed the chaotic debacle consisting of Kyoko, Kanae, the tall blonde, and her bodyguard. It was bad enough that they recognised Kanae, who was a reasonably well-known, otherwise small-time actress in show business, not to mention she, too, was the wife of Hiou Uesugi, a very acclaimed A-list actor. While she was not as eminent and influential as her husband (and that she had since taken a lengthy break from the spotlight following the birth of her child), she remained a consistent target of the hungry members of the press during her private, off-camera moments. As a matter of fact, Kyoko suspected that members of the paparazzi had already slipped into the crowd. Her heart leaped into her mouth. She prayed that no one had filmed the part earlier where the blonde woman had slapped her. The last thing she wanted was to have that broadcast all over the news.

Despite her fears, she felt angry. Very angry. It wasn't just Kanae who was mad.

Kyoko was sick of receiving flak from all the other people in Ren's social circle. Back at the Star Awards, she had to deal with the judgemental appraisal from all the other celebrities including Kijima and Momose, deal with Momose's hostile jealousy, then on the next day have Momose get her claws on Ren and ensnare him into an embrace with her. And now Kyoko was _slapped_? What had she done to deserve this? Why did this woman have to physically abuse her? This was going way too far, and what pissed Kyoko off more was that the gawking crowd hadn't stepped in to intervene what was clearly an unacceptable act of violence. Was she some kind of walking doormat to everyone, and a source of malicious entertainment and ridicule?

"Look," Kyoko snapped at the golden-haired woman, who had her arms folded the whole time. "I believe you owe me an apology."

There was a short silence, and the woman, with her manicured scarlet nails, began to pull apart the designer scarf around her lower face, while her other hand daintily reached up for her Chanel sunglasses. She removed the articles obscuring her face, and Kyoko's breath caught.

Her almond green eyes were exotically slanted, and framed by long, pale, shimmery lashes that were as golden as her hair. There was something oddly familiar in her countenance that Kyoko couldn't place—she could have sworn she had seen that catlike sleekness, and the patrician nuances from those elegantly sculpted features, in someone else before. The artistically high cheekbones, the upright, haughty nose, and the peach-hued pout were haunting. Her skin was creamy and fair, like a fairy queen's. Back when Kyoko was a mere child, she had always loved envisioning the world of fairies and princesses. If there should be anyone playing the role of the lofty, enchanting Queen of fairies, this woman would be perfect. There wasn't a single flaw in her body.

The public went insane the moment they saw her face. Cries broke out from amongst them.

"It's Juliena Hizuri!"

"_The_ Juliena Hizuri? This can't be real!"

"No, it's definitely her!"

And then the crowd was closing in on them, many of its members fumbling in their pockets and their purses for a scrap of paper and a pen as they pleaded loudly to the mysterious, ethereal blonde for an autograph. Kyoko emitted a muffled shout when numerous bodies pressed ruthlessly against her, nearly squashing the petite female. Her arms flailed helplessly from where she was caught in the mad stampede of people. Various colors of clothing filled her vision, blotting out her sight of Kanae and the blonde woman.

Juliena Hizuri? Kyoko had vaguely heard that name before, but she barely recognised it all the same. Her face had looked familiar, but Kyoko still had no clue why. She hardly kept herself up to date on pop culture and the inner workings of the entertainment business; she hadn't even known that much about Ren for a good while prior to their relationship. Whoever was the hottest celebrity at the moment was lost on her, since she didn't exactly watch a lot of movies or listen to the radio frequently. Evidently, though, Kyoko had been slapped by a superstar today, judging by how fervently everyone was asking for Juliena's autograph. Kyoko wanted to ruminate more on who this superstar was and what her connection with Ren (she had called Ren her 'baby' earlier, and that irked Kyoko immensely) was, but with the mass of sweaty, squirming bodies peeled against all angles of her slender frame, it was difficult to think about anything else other than the need to get the hell out of here before she suffocated to death. Cameras were flashing too, and Kyoko winced as the blinding light assaulted her retinas and as the noise of shutters slamming resounded in her aching eardrums.

And then a strong hand was tugging on her arm, and Kyoko found herself being pulled past the bodies and then reeled out of the stinky crowd. Fresh, cool air hit her face, and she found with great relief and joy that she was finally able to breathe. She didn't have the time to savor it, unfortunately, as the hand that was gripping her arm like steel was still dragging her somewhere. She stumbled blindly, protesting, as the hand brought her to a black BMW parked by the pavement. His grip was becoming so painful Kyoko cried out. More camera lights exploded across her face.

The hand, Kyoko discovered, belonged to the blonde woman's bodyguard. Juliena Hizuri was following close behind, and Kyoko gasped when the car door opened and she was forced inside, her entire figure sprawling clumsily onto the leather surface of the backseat. The crowd of devoted fans were pursuing them into the vehicle now, and Kyoko let out another alarmed cry when Juliena lowered herself gracefully—but no less hurriedly—into the car after Kyoko, sealing off her exit. She could hear Kanae's worried voice mixing into the stampede's chorus of screams, and a terrified Kyoko tried to respond, only for the car door to slam shut, courtesy of Juliena's bodyguard. The civilians' hands struck the car's glass windows frantically, desperate to regain their contact with Juliena, despite how Juliena had instantly locked her car door upon getting in. Kyoko turned to her other side and tried futilely to reach for the second car door right next to her, but Juliena's red-nailed claws curled over her thin shoulders.

"Stay here," Juliena hissed. "We need to talk."

In that split-second, the beefy bodyguard, opening the driver's side door with great difficulty, was shoving himself into the driver's seat, and he kicked brutally at the outstretched hands from the crowd, then slammed the door shut again. He jabbed a button at the front of the dashboard, locking the whole vehicle, and effectively cutting off Kyoko's means of escape.

"What are you doing?" Kyoko said angrily, as the automobile set off. "Let me go!"

"No," Juliena said briskly. "I want to talk to you."

"Mrs. Hizuri," the bodyguard-cum-chauffeur spoke concernedly. "Why did you reveal your face to the press?"

"When the news breaks out, it's the only way Ren would be concerned enough to see me," Juliena answered promptly. "If I don't, he'd take forever to come and approach me himself. And I don't just want a text. I want him to find me. Lory already told him the address at where I'm staying."

Kyoko clenched her hands. This woman definitely had some connection with Ren. Why did she want Ren to contact her and find her? Was she an ex-lover of his? But it didn't make sense. The driver had called her 'Mrs. Hizuri'. She was married, and she was going around saying she wanted Ren to approach her? Did her husband know? Ren couldn't have actually had an affair with a married woman… could he? But this lady looked significantly older than him. Kyoko knew Ren had slept with many women in the past, but a married, older woman? Wasn't that going too far? She knew some men liked this kind of thing, but Kyoko never knew Ren to be one of them. Her lips pursed as dark, possessive jealousy spread like bile in her throat.

_He's mine,_ an irrational thought rang in her head. _Mine. Mine. Mine._

Kyoko stared disbelievingly as Juliena Hizuri retrieved an oval, glass bottle of perfume from her branded clutch, then sprayed copious amounts of lavender all over her long blonde bombshell curls. Her exquisite almond green eyes shifted to where Kyoko sat next to her, and they darkened with disapproval, lashes resting against her milky skin like miniature, pale feather fans.

"Look at you," Juliena said, still in those soft, dulcet soprano tones, slightly punctuated with an American accent. "You're so young, and already so conniving."

"Conniving?" Kyoko was flabbergasted and offended. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Juliena retorted contemptuously. "There are many women like you. Women who pretend to be pregnant and attempt to use this imaginary pregnancy to coerce famous men into taking responsibility for them. And what is your goal? Money and fame."

Kyoko's jaw dropped.

She had never heard anything so utterly preposterous and untrue in her life. Firstly, she wasn't pretending to be pregnant. How could this woman accuse her of faking it when she didn't even know anything about Kyoko and her relationship with Ren? And to be called conniving… it sent a bolt of unease in her chest. Yes, she had secretly wanted to become pregnant without Ren's permission or agreement, but it wasn't so that she could coerce him into taking responsibility for the baby, and it definitely wasn't for his money or fame. In fact, it was the other way around. She hadn't wanted him to know about her pregnancy at all. She'd planned to leave him as soon as possible, and then settle down alone somewhere else, like maybe another province such as Osaka. She definitely wasn't using him for his fame, not when she hadn't wanted to make their relationship public in the first place. And as for his wealth? Kyoko never had plans to take a cent of it after her baby was conceived—she had decided to raise it herself, with her own money. She'd been saving a lot in her bank account from her salary as a social worker, and she was getting ready to put it to good use once the child was born. Sure, the child wouldn't be able to lead a lifestyle as luxurious with Ren as its father, but Kyoko could still give it financial security by herself.

But Kyoko knew she didn't have to explain herself to Juliena Hizuri. She didn't owe anyone an explanation just so she could change some arrogant woman's condescending mindset. She didn't care what this blonde thought of her.

"Let me out of the car," Kyoko said flatly. "Now."

"I think not," Juliena rebutted tartly. "We have business to discuss, you and I."

"What business?" Kyoko snapped. "I don't want any business with you!"

"Even if I offered a cheque?" Juliena said coldly.

"A cheque?" Kyoko repeated dumbly.

"A cheque of a hundred thousand dollars. Would that placate you to leave and to stop hounding Ren?"

Kyoko's nails dug into her hands. _Hounding_ Ren?

Juliena was digging around her clutch, and before Kyoko's incredulous eyes, she lifted a chequebook out, then took out an expensive, shiny ballpoint pen. "What is your name, child?"

"I don't want your money!" Kyoko ground out, gritting her teeth at Juliena's stinging offer. She had never been more insulted and humiliated. "Save your cheques for someone else, because I'm not interested! If I want to stay with Tsuruga-san, it's my business. I don't need you to tell me what to do! You're free to make your own assumptions about my intentions, and you know what? Have fun making up stories about my motives to keep yourself entertained, but don't expect me to accept your money."

There was a stunned silence, and Juliena's lovely almond green eyes widened, her glossy pink lips parted. She appeared daintily affronted and shocked at the same time.

Then Juliena suddenly pounced, snatching away Kyoko's purse from where it had been nestled on the latter's lap.

"Hey!" Kyoko shrieked. "Give it back!"

She tried to grab her purse back, but Juliena shoved her roughly away. Kyoko fell back against her seat, stunned. She wanted to fight back, but with her pregnancy at stake, she didn't dare to risk hurting the baby. She'd nearly lost it once. She wasn't going to risk it again.

As she watched resentfully, Juliena rummaged quickly in her purse, and fished out her wallet. Flipping her wallet open, she pulled out Kyoko's ID card.

"'Mogami Kyoko'," Juliena read out loud. "Hmm. I see. No wonder I thought you looked familiar. This surname isn't all that common either."

"What are you talking about?" Kyoko demanded, seizing her purse and wallet back, along with her ID card.

"You look exactly like someone I know," Juliena said. "The resemblance is uncanny. Your mother is Mogami Saena, isn't it?"

Kyoko's mouth went dry.

When was the last time her mother's name had been brought up? She had lost contact with her mother for many years, which, Kyoko supposed, was Saena's doing. Saena didn't exactly love her the way most mothers did with their children. Her mother's whole life revolved around her tremendously successful career. Kyoko had, as a child, loved her more than anything else in the world. She still did now, unfortunately, which was pretty pathetic since it was an unrequited love, and since she hadn't spoken to her mother for years. Nothing she tried to do would ever please Saena. Good grades in school hardly made Saena proud of her, as Saena's expectations were sky-high in the first place. Kyoko recalled her troubled childhood where she spent many days trying to reach out to a disinterested, aloof parent. She wanted Saena to pat her head, to tell her she had done well for her exams, and maybe even warmly embrace Kyoko for her hard work. What she got instead was a parent who was barely home, and when she was home, she was always in her study instead of spending time with her daughter. Then Saena had sent Kyoko away to live with Shotaro's parents, which had utterly crushed Kyoko.

Her mother was a criminal defense lawyer, and a very successful one. She was a huge, highly-sought name in the legal world, and had represented many frightening and ruthless criminals in court, as well as high-profile figures like allegedly corrupt CEOs, moguls, and business tycoons. Mogami Saena was infamous for winning almost every case she got, with the subsequent case bigger than the last one. Her notorious legal battles were always on the main headlines of the newspapers, which Kyoko admittedly read often to this day in hopes of seeing her beloved mother's name printed on the grey paper. She was titled the 'Queen of Court' for her unbeatable winning streak, and for her uniquely merciless way in representing her client. Failure was not an acceptable option for Mogami Saena. Her latest greatly acclaimed, much talked-about case had just been settled a few months ago, where she had represented a business mogul who had allegedly raped and murdered many women in his employment.

She had won the battle as predicted, having accused the plaintiff of committing defamation, and her client had eventually gotten off scot-free. There had been so much evidence pointing to the mogul that everyone was stunned Saena had still twisted things around and won the case.

"What about Saena?" Kyoko said shakily. She didn't want any more people she loved associated with Juliena Hizuri. Not Ren, and not her mother.

"Did you see her most recent case?" Juliena inquired, with a smile that did not reach her eyes. "It was a case where everyone thought she was going to lose, but yet somehow still won."

"What's your point?" Kyoko blustered. "Either get to it or—"

"She slept with the judge of that case to win."

Kyoko's airways suddenly tightened so painfully that she had to gasp desperately for oxygen. Red spots erupted in her vision.

"Take that back," she whispered. "That's not true. Take that back."

"But it is true. You see, the judge's wife is an actress like myself, and we've been very good friends for years. She's been suspicious of her husband as of late, and hired a private detective to follow him. The photographs he took? Well, they were of your mother and the judge embracing in a love hotel late at night together, a night where he told his wife he would be at work in his office. Funny, isn't it, how they should meet three days before the hearing took place? My friend is still considering what to do. If she exposes those photos, her husband's career is going to be over. She still loves him to the point that she doesn't want to ruin his career. Of course, the same goes for your mother's career—"

"Stop," Kyoko pleaded brokenly. Her face was white. "Just stop."

If this scandal ever got out, her elitist mother would be destroyed. It wasn't just her career that was going to disintegrate into smithereens. It was her entire life, a life where she had devoted herself into making sure her career blossomed. She'd thrown away her own daughter—her own family—so that she could rise as a lawyer. To Saena, her unbeatable winning streak in court was all that mattered. Nothing was more important, not her morals, not even her own body.

Failure was not an acceptable option.

There was a short silence.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Juliena said, with more gentleness than Kyoko expected. "Like I said, I've been old friends with his wife for a very long time. She listens to me keenly for advice. If I advise her not to reveal the photos, your mother's career will be safe. However…"

"However?" Kyoko echoed, swallowing.

She sensed an ultimatum coming, and was not disappointed.

"It comes down to this," Juliena said coolly, examining her long, dark red nails detachedly. "If you leave Ren alone, I'll leave your mother's career alone. What say you?"

* * *

Momose sipped her wine glass primly, letting the delectable red wine trickle down the back of her throat.

She hadn't wanted to come here, to be honest. She had planned to turn down Manaka's invitation. Momose wasn't interested in entertaining the psychotic freak show that was Manaka.

The socialite was infatuated with Ren, and had made herself a fool about it in front of the public time after time. Plenty of her Tweets and other social media posts were about how much she adored him, and about all his latest activities, which she kept herself arduously up to date. She'd tried to break into the acting industry so that she could act alongside Ren in the past, but the few movies she'd managed to act in—with help and influence from her rich daddy—had tanked, hence ending her brief time as an actress. Manaka had tried becoming a singer too, but her debut album had done moderately, and the reviews and response were lukewarm. It hadn't caused much of a stir. The only reason she got into a record label was because her father owned one. She had no particular talent, being unable to act or sing very well, and spent day after day spending her father's money on getting her face done, as well as her nails, and sleeping with one man after another, and last but not least, obsessing with Ren.

Momose knew why Manaka had invited her to her ladies' luncheon today. The latter must had seen the breaking news of Ren and Momose kissing yesterday, and she was probably steaming mad. The whole Golden Couple fiasco had probably irked Manaka for ages already. Manaka had likely invited Momose to confront her about it. Momose didn't care much for Manaka's ladies' luncheons—there were just wealthy, catty female celebrities gathering together for a costly meal and gossiping about Manaka's favorite topic: Ren. Oh, and that the female celebrities were all Ren's exes? Yeah, that didn't interest Momose at all.

Because unlike Manaka, Momose wasn't stupid. Painting yourself as a lovesick idiot in the press about a man you were crazy about wasn't going to get you your man. It was only going to make everyone appalled, including the man himself. No, Momose would rather resort to some underhanded, sneaky manipulation. She was expecting Ren to get angry at her for kissing him in front of the paps, resulting in the chaotic near-scandal in the media, but that was fine. Anger was attention, and now Ren could finally stop ignoring her all this time in favor for that stupid civilian girl he was dating. Seizing his attention was the first step, and she planned to apologize sweetly to him when she got the chance, and from there on, see how she could seduce him into gradually abandoning his date at the Star Awards. Hatred and love were interlinked, and she was going to have a delightful time blurring those lines with Ren. With his mind preoccupied by his anger towards Momose, she would have possessed the tiniest bit of space on his mind that had initially been wholly reserved for his current lover. Unlike vapid, air-headed Manaka, Momose was a real threat to Ren, and she wasn't letting him dismiss her as insignificant ever again.

It was a small triumph, but it was going to be worth it in the long run.

Then Momose had heard that Ren had accepted Manaka's invitation to join them today. Manaka invited him every year, which he always politely declined. Momose knew Manaka had probably just invited him as part of her wishful thinking, never once dreaming he would really accept.

Well, this was enough for Momose to change her mind. If Ren was making an appearance, she was going to grab hold of this opportunity to meet him, even if it meant accepting Manaka's stupid invitation as well. Evidently, a lot of excited women invited to Manaka's luncheon thought the same thing, since many of them had accepted Manaka's invitations too, much to Momose's annoyance, and definitely Manaka's. Manaka couldn't exactly cancel out their invitations now at the last minute.

So now here Momose was, sipping red wine in a high-class bar Manaka had reserved, so that the entire place was empty save for the members attending the luncheon. They sat in dark purple velvet lounge chairs around a table, partaking in expensive Italian wine and in various kinds of exquisite, fresh salad, the only dish stick-thin models like them—and a male with a limited appetite like Ren—would eat. A small television was playing softly in a corner of the bar, right above where the mustached bartender stood behind the counter, quietly cleaning empty wine glasses and pretending not to listen to the conversation.

"Ren," a supermodel named Yukiko sang, her fork digging into the sweet-and-spicy pecans of her baby blue salad. She was a pretty brunette with her hair swept up in an old-fashioned beehive. "What made you change your mind about coming here? You never come."

Ren smiled at his ex-lover. He was so attractive he made Momose's heart flip; dressed in a dark grey waistcoat, a crisply buttoned shirt, and tight dress pants that fit his long legs snugly, he appeared like a languorous, somewhat bored aristocrat. His adroit, talented fingers tapped the stem of his glass idly.

"I came because I heard Miss Momose was invited," he said bluntly, his dark eyes directed warmly at the woman in question. "I came to apologize to her."

Momose had been taken aback by the lack of hostility on Ren's part from the moment they arrived at the bar. She had donned a lacy black number with a string of pearls glittering from her slender neck and ears, along with a lush mink coat to protect her from the cold air outside. Her golden hair was swept up in a tight, sleek knot, and her lipstick a hot, vibrant shade of pink. Instead of displaying any belligerence towards Momose, Ren had politely helped her out of her coat when they reached the table, an act of chivalry exclusive to only her, and not the rest of the females. Momose had been dumbfounded, but with the rest of the slightly annoyed women watching (who had removed their own coats by themselves), she couldn't ask him anything.

Was he really not angry at her? Momose's head was spinning with doubts and uncertainty. What was going on? This was nothing like she had predicted.

"Apologize?" Manaka said, her blue eyes glittering. She wore a tight, blue spaghetti strap cocktail dress that delineated her well-endowed curves nicely. Her short blonde hair was smooth and silky, and her round face was heavily contoured, her lips painted a cherry red. She lowered her glass of vodka, glaring at Momose. "Apologize about what?"

"That will be between Momose and I when we get a private moment alone," Ren said graciously, his baritone voice silky. "Speaking of which, thank you for your invitation, Miss Manaka."

Manaka flushed. "Oh, Ren! You know I always wanted you back by my side." She smiled flirtatiously from where she sat next to him, batting long lashes.

"Hands off," Yukiko scowled, gripping Manaka's wrist before the latter could boldly press herself closer to him. "Don't forget he's dating Momose now. Or so the media says, anyway. But is it really true, Ren?"

There was no mistaking the undertone of hope in her voice, Momose thought, that it was not true.

"I'm sure it's not real," Manaka said tersely, her lips twisted icily. "The tabloids always spew plenty of bullshit, anyway. So, tell us, Ren. It's not true, right?"

Instead of answering their queries, Ren silently reached over, and, to Momose's complete shock, gently swiped off a smidge of salad dressing from Momose's lower lip that she'd missed with his bare finger.

Her chest tightened at once.

His long finger against Momose's vulnerable mouth made her pulse race and her nerves tingle; she was aware of her entire face blushing with pleasure before the other girls.

Was this what it was like to be Ren's real lover, and not just a theatrical one in front of the cameras like she had been in Dark Moon? When one was acting, there was a habitual sadness lingering in Momose's heart whenever they played the love scenes in the drama. This was work, and the novelty of the moment was ruined by a filming crew constantly watching and yelling at you to get the scenes right and with cameras flashing obtrusively in your eyes. It felt empty and professional, rather than genuine and heart-wrenching. But right now, there was no reason for Ren to treat her so intimately. There was no director instructing him nor a script guiding him. It was purely Ren, sitting gracefully by her side in a grand, luxurious bar, with amber lights from the ceiling reflecting off his smoky, obsidian eyes, giving it an enticing mixture of black and gold. She felt slightly heady from the sensation of it all.

Was this a mere preview of what his pregnant lover had indulged in for the past few months?

Momose had never felt more jealous of another woman then.

It seemed she was not the only one who was feeling jealous. All of Ren's exes looked decidedly bad-tempered upon seeing Ren's unexpected display of intimacy with Momose, save for Manaka, whose face had turned blank.

"Ren, sweetheart," another actress, this time called Rika, said, throwing a filthy look at Momose. "We're simply _dying_ to know. Are you really dating Itsumi Momose? It can't be, right? She's a total skank."

Momose glared at her.

"Let's not fight," Ren said softly. "Rika, that was… unpleasant of you."

Rika flinched, her beautiful face turning a dark, burning hue of red.

_Serves the bitch right_, Momose noted with satisfaction. _She had it coming._

"Why are you so protective of Momose, Ren?" Yukiko asked, pouting. "She hasn't done anything to deserve this."

"It shows the news was right," Rika said bitterly. "The two of you are dating. All that Golden Couple hype from Dark Moon for the past year was true."

"Momose and Ren, the Golden Couple," another model said sourly. "How nice. How romantic."

"So what do you want to apologize to Momose about, Ren, darling?" Rika wanted to know hotly. "Why does it have to be a private moment between you two?"

Momose was taking another sip from her wine glass when she felt a feminine elbow roughly dig into her waist. Her wrist jerked, her fingers slipping, and the wine glass tilted uncontrollably in her hand, spilling its contents right onto her dress. She righted the glass immediately, but it was too late. Momose stared in horror at the red wine soaking through the ebony lace and dripping down her shapely thighs in a sticky trace along her bare skin. Momose lifted her head, then turned around and stared accusingly at the woman next to her.

Yukiko.

"You elbowed me!" Momose cried.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yukiko said haughtily.

"You're so rude," Rika fired at Momose, though it was clear she was sadistically gleeful at Momose's sodden state. "I saw you. You accidentally spilled it all over yourself. Quit pointing fingers at others to cover up your own carelessness."

"Enough, Rika," Ren said gently. He regarded Momose with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Don't bother with her, Ren," Yukiko said, sniffing. "Women like her who malign others don't deserve your sympathy."

"Shut up!" Momose snapped. "You did it to me deliberately, you freak!"

"I didn't!" Yukiko shot back shamelessly. "You're mentally disturbed, that's what!"

Manaka suddenly stood up from her seat, picking her clutch up with her. She had been unsually silent throughout the luncheon, but she piped up now.

"I'll bring Miss Momose to the washroom to clean up."

"Thank you, Manaka," Ren murmured smoothly. "I appreciate it."

Manaka smiled, flattered by his words.

Momose said nothing, allowing the socialite to walk over and take her arm, then guide her across the spacious expanse of the dining bar to where the ladies' room was. The blonde was abruptly aware of all the women rising from their seats as well, excusing themselves.

Momose's gut suddenly felt heavy, as if laden with lead. She wanted to turn back, to flee, to do anything but head to the washroom, but her limbs just kept moving mechanically

Her fears were proven right when she got into the ladies' room, and the door shut behind them with a soft click.

Numerous manicured hands shoved her at the same time, sending her slender body sprawling to the hard marble floor, the pearls adorning her neck and ears tinkling. She gasped in pain at the reeling impact, and instantly tried to get up, but a high-heeled peep toe pump kicked her chest, and she fell back, whimpering in agony. Another female hand yanked at her pearl necklace, grabbing hold of the back of the chain so that it was pressed against her bare throat like an unyielding wire of beads, cutting off her airways and strangling her.

"Hel—help," Momose choked out, desperate for anyone else who happened to be in the washroom to help her. Unfortunately, she remembered with horror then that the entire bar was booked by Manaka.

No one could save her now.

"_Golden Couple_," Yukiko sneered, still gripping the string of pearls. "What's so great about that, huh?"

"I agree, Yukiko," Rika smiled tauntingly, leaning down and grabbing Momose's pinned hair so forcefully that her golden locks began to fall apart from under the pin. "Who does this bitch think she is, I wonder? What, like being Ren's girlfriend is so special? We've all been through that. She's just the newest in line, but she acts like she's so damned special."

She held Momose's head back, keeping it in place.

Another model, aware of the opportunity, knelt down and abruptly slapped her.

"Look at that pretty face," she mocked. "No wonder Ren likes you. You're just so pretty… so pretty it makes me sick." She struck Momose again, making her delicate face jerk from the blow.

"Don't just stand there, Manaka," Yukiko called. "Join in the fun."

Manaka, who had been standing apathetically in a corner of the washroom, reached into her black clutch, her pretty blue eyes eerily blank. What she took out sent terrifying chills down Momose's spine.

A small penknife.

* * *

Ren sipped elegantly from his wine glass, savoring the sublime, refined taste of the liquid. His dark eyes were unreadable, but the small, sensually wicked curve of a sardonic smile was playing with his sculpted lips.

He took another sip of red wine. The male radiated contentment in his seat, looking like a satisfied, large jungle cat that had just caught its prey.

"A refill, please," he murmured to the bartender, who came over and obediently poured another serving of wine into Ren's glass.

The actor glanced to the television playing behind the bartender's counter, and he stilled.

It was a news report. The television was playing a footage filmed by a reporter, where it depicted a huge crowd of what was pure pandemonium. People were yelling and shouting and squirming alongside each other, and then a breathtakingly beautiful face appeared directly in the lens of the camera.

The face, in Ren's opinion, of one of the most beautiful women in the world.

Juliena Hizuri.

She stared straight at the camera, as if challenging whoever happened to view it on the other end—or rather, just one person.

Ren's smile slowly disappeared, and his flawless features took on an indecipherable mask.

Then Juliena looked away, and she stalked off. The camera continued following her movements, along with a crowd of mad fans begging for an autograph. Ren could see what appeared to be a security guard behind her, who was dragging a familiar, petite, copper-haired girl with him. The man yanked on the girl's arm harder, eliciting a cry of pain from her.

Ren's dark eyes turned a cold shade of black.

And then the security guard callously shoved a visibly petrified Mogami Kyoko into a BMW, and he stepped aside to allow Juliena to swiftly follow her, slamming the car door shut behind the blonde.

Ren's phone suddenly rang in the pocket of his dress pants. He slid his large, long-fingered hand into the pocket and gracefully retrieved the device.

It was an incoming call from Kanae Kotonami.

Ren answered it, his baritone voice flat and emotionless. "Tsuruga Ren speaking."

"Tsuruga-san," Kanae blurted breathlessly. She sounded hysterical and panicky, and after a few long seconds where she struggled to compose herself, she spoke again.

_"Kyoko's been kidnapped!"_

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N:** It's funny how life works. If Momose hadn't kissed Ren, then the news wouldn't have announced that the 'Golden Couple' were officially dating. If the news hadn't announced that, then the other girls wouldn't have heard it, believed it, and then gotten jealous. Of course, I don't condone violence. I am taking a completely neutral standpoint here.

Oh, and for any of you guys who are curious, yes, Manaka is the psychotic fan from the previous chapter. I had her actions planned since then. More information to come about her in future chapters.

Thank you so much for reviewing, everyone, and please continue sharing your comments!


	14. Chapter 14

_:Chapter 14:_

Ren studied his mother's face for the first time in years as they sat together in her hotel suite.

She was still as beautiful as ever. As a child, she had been his first love. He had grown up admiring his mother's beauty, knowing that few females out there rivaled her looks. She was the first woman he had ever known in his life, and would always remain as one of the most special ones in his heart. A long time ago, she _had_ been the only one special to him. Juliena Hizuri had that effect on men. His own father worshipped the ground she walked on, and still did today.

Ren gazed steadily now at the exotic almond green pools of Juliena's eyes, the luminous gold lashes framing her lids, and at the rest of her arresting features, including her angelically shaped lips, the straight-edged nose, and the sweepingly regal cheekbones. Her countenance was very different from Kyoko's; whereas Juliena's almond eyes were slanted and smaller in a sensualistic, seductive way, Kyoko's doe eyes were large and innocent. Julia's nose was upturned and high; Kyoko's adorable button nose was small. Juliena's face was also more oval and mature-looking than Kyoko's rounded, heart-shaped one. Juliena commanded an air of infallible authority and confidence, whereas Kyoko's nature was meeker, more frail, and gentler.

It was odd, how the two most special women in his life were such opposites.

But it also made sense. Throughout his childhood he had been raised under the iron fist of a strong female that was his mother, and it had been suffocating. So suffocating, in fact, that he had craved for independence at a young age and left home in his early teens to find himself. He'd rebelled against society in his insane quest for said independence, and had explored the dark side of the streets. He dabbled in alcohol, joined gangs, got into huge fights, smoked, and partook in all kinds of empty sex with nameless women. He didn't want to exist under another person's authority and shadow, as he had with his famous, powerful parents. He wanted to live life on his own terms, to do whatever the hell he wanted.

But soon enough, he realised he was getting nowhere. People despised him, and worst of all, he despised himself. No, the only way out was to clean himself up again. Instead of rebelling outright against the rules like before, he went with the flow after that. But it wasn't because he wanted to become a model citizen. Oh, no. He still had dreams of claiming independence and living life under his own terms, but now he had new tactics.

Manipulation.

It was harder to get what you wanted if you threw a childish tantrum. It was fruitless being brash. It only made people despise you. It was smarter to do as you were told, and then quietly twist the circumstances around so that they were tipped in your favor. No tantrum, no fuss (that you were going to end up involved in, anyway), and no direct conflict with anyone. In a sense, his alpha, dominant mother had somewhat nurtured that characteristic in him, having created his preferences for constant control. As a result, Ren had become more drawn towards mellower, softer females that were opposite his mother. He had no difficulties taming and manipulating his previous alpha lovers as if they were mere pawns (like with Mimori and Manaka), but small, petite women like his delicate Kyoko… He truly gravitated towards her.

Ren was still and unmoving as his mother threw herself around him on the cream-colored sofa of the suite, her sweet-smelling, lustrous golden hair spilling across his muscled arms. He could smell her favorite perfume—lavender—wafting across his sensitive olfactory senses. It was a nostalgic, familiar scent that had often lingered in the household he grew up in, a scent he had loved and hated at the same time. Smelling the sweet lavender reminded him of the manor that had been his family home, a place that had been simultaneously suffocating and cosy.

"I've missed you, Kuon," she whispered ardently, addressing him by his real name. That, too, was achingly nostalgic. "How long has it been? It must have been years. Why haven't you returned to the States at least once throughout all this time?" She reached up and touched his silken raven locks with long nails. "And your hair... I wish you never colored it. This is not your real color, and you know it."

"Had I known you were coming to see me, Mother," Ren said levelly, "I would have changed it back."

She cupped his beautifully sculpted face with her crimson-nailed hands. "You're angry at me, aren't you?"

He gave her an unreadable, almost sardonic smile. "Hardly."

"I had to come see you. You were in trouble, Kuon. As a mother, I can't just stand by and watch. Kuu wasn't happy with me, but I still had to come."

"Oh?" Ren arched a brow. "And exactly what kind of trouble do you think I am facing, Mother?"

Juliena pulled away from him, and folded her arms primly. "Don't pretend you don't know, Kuon. This woman… The one you said was pregnant with your child. She threatened you to take responsibility for it, didn't she?"

Ren regarded his mother unfathomably.

After seeing the footage playing out on the television at the bar, and after receiving the phone call from Kanae Kotonami, he had covered the bill for everyone and left the bar promptly, although all the ladies had still not returned to the table from the restroom. Ren had not wasted a single minute; from the moment he was inside the privacy of his car, he had called his mother, and asked her to meet him as soon as possible. He would meet her wishes if he had to.

"I saw the news," Ren said quietly. "You forced her to go on a little car ride with you, did you not?"

"I got rid of her for you, Kuon. She won't hound you anymore." Juliena clasped his larger hands. "You're free, honey. She'll leave you very soon, maybe even today."

Ren's cognac eyes darkened so that they were almost a frightening shade of ebony. "What did you do?"

Juliena shook her resplendent gold head. "You know there are some things I can't divulge, Kuon."

"Is that so?"

"My methods might be… unconventional, but they are effective. But know that I took care of her for you—"

"And what if I told you this woman did not threaten me at all?"

"She might not have, but I know you are far too honorable to abandon a woman in supposed need. So I had no choice but to play the role of the villain in your place."

"In supposed need?" Ren repeated coolly.

Juliena's glossy lips pursed. "Women like her are sneaky and dishonest, who'd stoop to anything to get what they want. She and her mother are the same. You can't believe her claims that she is supposedly pregnant, Kuon."

Ren's dark eyes were shrewd. "And how do you know about her mother?"

Kyoko's mother was a sensitive topic for his lover. Throughout their brief relationship he had occasionally caught her devouring the daily newspapers in the kitchen, furtively looking out for headlines regarding her mother. She had jumped when she saw him watching her, then hastily scrunched up the papers, laughing nervously to him that she was just bored. It wasn't until later after she had gone to bed that Ren had soundlessly retrieved the wrinkled newspaper from the waste paper basket and unravelled it to see what she had been reading. Taking in the headlines he had easily derived that her mother was a famous attorney. _Mogami_ was an uncommon surname, and it wasn't difficult to guess Saena's relation to Kyoko. Ren had never once mentioned to Kyoko about his revelation, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, since Kyoko's relationship with her mother seemed complicated and somewhat strained, given that Kyoko had never talked about Saena voluntarily to him. Not just that, Ren had also never seen Kyoko contacting her mother, nor the other way around. However, she definitely cared about her mother, judging by how much she kept herself up to date about Saena's activities. As for whether the feeling was mutual, Ren's sharp instincts told him it might not be.

Instantly he had disliked Mogami Saena. Ren did not take kindly towards anyone who hurt Kyoko, and he knew instinctively that Saena had hurt Kyoko in the past before. Kyoko was evidently far too kind-hearted and gentle to hold grudges against her mother, and continued looking up to Saena to this day. It was foolish of her to latch onto someone who did not deserve her affections. While Ren was fascinated by Kyoko's kind, innocent nature, he detested it as well since she was consequently vulnerable to having others manipulate her and use her to their advantage. Juliena calling Kyoko sneaky and dishonest was laughable. Her innocence was what had drawn Ren to her in the first place. Even when she had been scheming to have Ren secretly father her child, her emotions had been written so clearly on her small face that Ren could read her inner turmoil as easily as words on paper.

"It doesn't matter how I know of her mother," Juliena said shortly, in response to his query. "The point is that I have solved the situation. I won't let her wreck your life."

"But you just did."

"What?" Juliena's brilliant emerald eyes were wide.

"If she leaves me," Ren said softly, "then she will have, as you said, wrecked my life."

Juliena's breathing became slightly labored as she registered what he said. "This can't be. She can't have manipulated you so much that she's made you fall in love with her."

"She is the last person I would ever call manipulative, Mother."

"This is wrong!" Juliena got to her feet on the muted carpeted floor of the Presidential suite, her feminine hands coiled at her sides. Her daintily-orchestrated stance as a former supermodel was undeniable. "She's a wench! She's Mogami Saena's daughter!"

"Ah. And what exactly is the correlation between those two statements, Mother?"

What had Mogami Saena done, Ren mused thoughtfully, to leave such a bad taste in Juliena's mouth?

"I have nothing to say, Kuon, except that this girl—Mogami Kyoko—is no good for you." Juliena's lovely face was filled with anger, her pale cheeks now flushed with rosy color. Even when afflicted with wrath, her temper further enhanced her celestial beauty, making her green eyes simmer and her long, aureate bombshell curls of hair fall across her cheeks.

"I am no good for her either." Ren's silky voice held an amused lilt. "I wonder what that means. Shall Kyoko and I just continue our path of debauchery together, then?"

"Kuon!" she cried shrilly.

Ren, too, rose gracefully from the sofa. Mother and son, both elegant and refined, regarded each other warily.

"I see you are unwilling to give me answers, Mother, which means I have no choice but to seek them on my own." Ren glided over, and proceeded to put on his cashmere coat from where it had been hanging off the rack. He turned slightly, giving his mother a final glance, his enchanting obsidian eyes impassive.

"In the meantime, do take care of yourself, Mother. It was… nostalgic seeing you again. Please send Father my well-wishes for me. Let him know that the both of you are to become grandparents soon."

And then the hotel suite door opened, and he was gone, as quietly as the wind.

* * *

The atmosphere in the study was tense.

Two people sat opposite each other, the woman sitting behind a grand oak desk—where a crystal decanter of whiskey was placed atop it, along with two half-filled glasses on either side—and the man casually straddling a mahogany ladder back chair in front of it. Both of them wore well-tailored, expensive grey suits, and were clearly people of status. The study was lavishly furnished, with towering timber shelves filled with books and packed ring binders surrounding them, along with a few ambrosial potted plants resting on the polished floor. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting the study in a haunting silvery glow. The heavy silk curtains were drawn, not allowing a single ray of sunlight to penetrate the room, and it served to increase the stifling gloom in the atmosphere.

Hidehito Kijima looked at his on-and-off lover, grinning.

The couple weren't dating, but they most definitely had fun beneath the sheets whenever the need to relieve some stress arose. It was a non-exclusive arrangement with no strings attached that suited him just fine. His bedmate was staring at an opened file on her desk, which was a request from media mogul Konoe to take his daughter's case.

Konoe was the notoriously rich President of Kijima's entertainment agency and also the father of Manaka. Konoe's entertainment agency was home to an impressive list of huge stars, including Fuwa Sho and himself. Konoe had tried adding Manaka to the list of stars in his agency before, but it hadn't worked. Fame was clearly not for everyone—not even those with cash and connections. Neither her acting nor singing career had done well, and she'd eventually given up. It was just as well, since Kijima and his labelmates strongly loathed Manaka. They would naturally never dare express their contempt in front of Konoe, who had no idea just how unpopular his daughter was with the members of his agency. If not for the fact that she was their boss' daughter, they would not have tolerated her extravagant, psychotic, and brattish ways since she was literally living off of them. Konoe had earned big bucks off his celebrities, and he spent abundant amounts of said wealth spoiling his rotten daughter.

Too bad his rotten daughter was currently sitting in a prison cell right now, probably crying her eyes out at the fact that even her father and his money couldn't save her anymore, not in her current predicament.

Manaka had been arrested on the counts of attempted murder and physical assault. From what Kijima found out, Manaka had stabbed Itsumi Momose several times in the restroom of a bar during one of her luncheons. Fortunately for Momose, Manaka's strength was weak and frail, and the other girls—who had quit attacking Momose and freaked out when they saw Manaka's penknife—had also tried to stop her from trying to kill Momose. Much as Ren's exes hated Momose, they didn't want to be charged and prosecuted with a murder on their hands. They weren't stupid, not like Manaka. Momose's stab wounds on her abdomen were shallow and, according to the doctor, there should be no permanent damage in the long run, save for some scars which, Kijima figured, could always be covered up with cosmetic surgery. She was presently sedated and patched up in the hospital; Kijima heard she had gone into shock.

He wasn't surprised to hear Ren had left the bar by the time the bartender had heard the women's cries and discovered Momose's bleeding body lying in the restroom together with all the other models, who were sobbing hysterically in fear, and a blank-faced Manaka. It was just like Ren to pull the strings behind the scenes without allowing himself to be implicated in the crime, even though Kijima knew he was no doubt the true mastermind behind everything. Still, the police was looking for Ren at the moment to question him about the events that had occurred. In their point of view, Ren was not even a witness, but just a passerby who might know something of interest to help them. It wasn't a big mystery of a case, anyway—things were quite straightforward. Manaka, jealous of Momose's supposed relationship with Ren, had stabbed her. All there was left to do now was await an imprisoned Manaka's verdict in court, and to hear from Momose's management team, who had already pressed charges against Manaka.

Konoe had already sought out the best attorney out there to represent his daughter: Mogami Saena. The 'Queen of Court', as she was titled, was still considering whether to take the case.

According to Saena, Manaka's best hope now was to claim that she had not been in the right state of mind as the perpetrator of the crime. If she was deemed as delusional or mentally unstable, she could plea for leniency from the court, and hence get a lighter sentence.

"I don't get the problem," Kijima said, shrugging. "Just take the case."

Saena glared at him icily through narrow hazel eyes. She was a stunning woman, with her raven hair held up in a sleek French twist and her unsmiling lips a dark, bloody scarlet. There was something oddly glamorous and gothic about her, her sharp features the sophisticated, cynical version of her daughter's. "You know I don't want a case that has anything to do with Tsuruga Ren."

Kijima understood at once.

Tsuruga Ren's lover was Mogami Kyoko, Saena's daughter, as it happened. He knew because Saena had told him. She'd recognised her daughter's face being broadcast on television during the Star Awards.

And it terrified Saena.

The news had broken out a day later that Mogami Kyoko—or simply addressed by the media as Ren's 'mysterious partner at the Star Awards show'—had used her pregnancy to force Tsuruga Ren into a committed relationship with her so that she could gain access to his wealth and fame. Although Kyoko's name was still unknown to the press, Saena was afraid that should her daughter's identity be somehow revealed, the negative news regarding Kyoko's so-called gold-digging methods could adversely impact Saena's reputation as a lawyer. After all, the surname _Mogami_ was very uncommon, and it wouldn't take the hungry reporters long to figure out a biological connection between acclaimed attorney Mogami Saena and conniving schemer Mogami Kyoko, not to mention the physical resemblance the two women shared was also a giveaway. If there was one thing Mogami Saena cared about, it was making sure that her perfect career remained untarnished. It was hence understandable that Saena wanted to stray away from any cases that directly or indirectly involved Ren, as it was safer to avoid any connection she might have to Kyoko's lover in front of the media's constant scrutiny.

What Saena didn't know was that Kijima had been the true culprit behind the near-scandal. He had been the secret accomplice to advise Momose to initiate the kiss with Ren so that the media would blow up as a result. He wanted Ren to suffer the caustic and cruel untruths inflicted on the innocent woman he loved—to have him lose her like Kijima had.

Kijima wanted revenge.

He would never forget how he had lost the woman he loved to Tsuruga Ren many years ago.

Kijima had always had a thing for accomplished, intelligent, and highly-educated women, which was probably why he was currently sharing his bed with Mogami Saena. But this was a passionless arrangement between both of them, unlike what he had once shared with another woman, who was brainy like Saena, a doctor, and someone he'd been madly in love with. It sounded clichéd, but it was true. He hadn't been able to breathe without her presence by his side. Every waking moment was consumed by thoughts of her mesmerizing eyes, her beautiful hair, her coquettish smile. They'd been together for years, had even discussed marriage. Kijima had never been happier. He was dating the woman he loved, and he was complete.

Then she had slept with Tsuruga Ren. Just one night, and it had destroyed Kijima.

Her name buzzed across his mind, eliciting the familiar ache in his chest.

_Ruriko._

The doctor Ruriko and Ren were no longer together, obviously, but it didn't change a thing. Ren had betrayed him, ruined him. Kijima was mutinously aware that it took two hands to clap, and that Ruriko had fallen head over heels for Ren back then, but Ren should have known better than to return her advances considering he and Kijima were friends at the time. What was even more insulting was that Ren hadn't loved Ruriko. He cared about her, sure, but she was ultimately just a good, brief lay in his bed. Ren could have had any woman he wanted, but he clearly just had to take another man's lover.

And now Kijima was determined to do the same to him.

Turnabout was fair play.

Kijima had tried to scare Kyoko off at the Star Awards, but that hadn't worked, despite the fact that he hadn't been lying regarding his comments about Ren's true nature. Mogami Kyoko hadn't budged, however. Then Kijima had turned on Momose as an easy pawn to use. But now Momose was hospitalized, and completely useless to him. She'd ignored Kijima's warnings not to go to the luncheon, not knowing what Kijima knew—that Ren could be as vengeful as Kijima himself was.

"You know what would resolve your fears?" Kijima said offhandedly to Saena. "If your daughter and Ren separate, everything is fixed. The press will lose interest in your daughter, and that'll lessen the chances of her name ever being leaked to the public."

"You think I don't know that?" Saena answered impatiently. "It's all good and easy, but how do you propose we break them up? I don't see how."

"Talk to your daughter about it."

"Excuse me?" Saena's voice was glacial.

Kijima shrugged insouciantly. "You always said she was overly attached to you, that she loves you a lot."

"She's nothing but an irritating thorn in my flesh."

"A thorn in the flesh who loves you and looks up to you as her beloved mother. If you tell her your situation—that she might tarnish your reputation as a lawyer if this goes on—she might understand. She can try to do something about it. She would never want to hurt you."

"And what can she do?"

"Who knows?" Kijima said nonchalantly. "You won't know until you talk to her."

"This is ridiculous," Saena said coldly. "I have no intention to talk to her. The two of us have not spoken in years, and I plan to change nothing of that."

"What if I spoke to her in your stead?"

Saena's black manicured brows flew up. "Excuse me?"

"I could approach her, tell her your concerns for you."

Sanae tapped the file with a long, shiny, polished nail. "How generous of you," she remarked sarcastically. "And I suppose you have no ulterior motives of your own?"

"No, not at all," Kijima said flippantly.

"Does this have anything to do with that ex-lover of yours who cheated on you with Tsuruga Ren?" Saena wanted to know blandly.

Kijima stiffened, then forced himself to relax in his chair. "I don't see the issue here," he replied airily. "I help you inform your daughter about your concerns, and hopefully she tries to solve the situation somehow. You get what you want. In the meantime, I get what I want, too. Everyone's happy."

"You want revenge." Saena's tone was dispassionate.

"Yeah, I do," Kijima said frankly.

He planned to seduce Mogami Kyoko away from Ren and into his own bed, mirroring the exact same scenario where he had lost Ruriko into Ren's bed. If he could seduce her cold-hearted, unfeeling bitch of a mother, he didn't see how Mogami Kyoko would be a challenge. Kijima might not be as powerfully charismatic and diplomatic as Ren, but he was still an infamous womanizer whose skills with women held its own against the latter. The negative publicity was probably already driving a wedge between Kyoko and Ren's relationship, anyway. Their now battered and frayed bond was easy for Kijima to take advantage of. All that it required was the final snip of a pair of scissors belonging to Kijima, and the flimsy thread of trust they shared would tear apart. Before long, he would have a compliant Mogami Kyoko spreading her legs for him, and he'd make sure Tsuruga Ren knew about it. This girl meant something to Ren, Kijima was sure of it. Maybe even as much as Ruriko had meant to Kijima. And by the end of it, he would destroy Ren just like how Ren had destroyed him.

"You're quite frightening, Kijima Hidehito," Saena pointed out, sounding aloof and distant as she studied the contents of her file. "I'm not sure what to feel about it all."

"You're just as scary." Kijima flashed a grin at her. "You might be becoming a grandmother soon, but you don't care, do you?"

"I've always believed that my biggest mistake in life was having a child." Saena's blood-red lips were taut. "If she wants to repeat my mistake, then that little fool can go on ahead."

"I'll make sure to pass on your sentiments to her. How do I contact your daughter?"

Saena hesitated. "I don't have her number, but I know where she lives. She's staying in a small rented apartment unit in Tokyo. I'll give you the full address later. Of course, she might not be staying there anymore if she moved in with Tsuruga Ren—"

"I'll give it a shot, and head on over tomorrow. Maybe her landlord can give me her number too."

* * *

Kyoko intended to move back to her apartment tomorrow.

This time, for good.

It hurt. It hurt so much that Kyoko had spent the past few hours since getting back home—Ren's home—crying uncontrollably. Juliena Hizuri had dropped her off from her BMW at some random mall, leaving Kyoko to take a bus home. Kyoko had considered calling Kanae or Ren, but realised her phone had been left behind at Sho's place from the time the singer had kidnapped her. Still, she didn't know what to say to either Ren or Kanae at that moment. She had been utterly lost for words, not to mention tormented by a conflicting wreck of emotions. There were just so many things running through her mind.

Juliena Hizuri could be lying. She could have made the entire story about Mogami Saena's affair with the judge up, just so she could scare Kyoko away from Ren. As to why, Kyoko couldn't figure it out. It didn't add up. Juliena was a married woman. Was she so in love with another man who was not her husband that she was willing to fabricate wild tales to scare Kyoko away? Kyoko shook her head, trying to quell the intense jealousy she felt. But even if Juliena might be lying, could Kyoko just ignore her and risk knowing that she could have prevented her mother's scandal from blowing up, but had chosen to do nothing to save her? It was true her mother had never loved her, and in all likelihood, never would. But Kyoko did love her, regardless whether her feelings were returned. She didn't want to see her mother's career crumble, not when she could stop it. But preventing this meant leaving the second person she loved, whom she cared for with as much intensity as her mother, maybe more. The difference here, though, was that Kyoko had planned to leave Ren from the beginning. Juliena had asked Kyoko to do what she herself had intended to do from the very start. What Kyoko had _not_ intended to do was fall so deeply in love with Ren to the point where she kept deliberating whether to carry out her initial plans.

Leaving Ren now would shatter Kyoko. She would break, and unlike with Sho, she would never be able to ever heal properly this time. It was over. Her past love for Sho was nowhere as powerful and devoted as her current love for Ren, and that was saying something. Ren was everything. He was the center of her universe. He was her life.

He was, after all, responsible for the very life growing in her belly right now. It would be the only piece of him she could bring with her when she left.

Tonight would be their last night together. Just one last night, and they would have to part ways after that, so that Kyoko could fulfill her side of Juliena's bargain.

Just one last night, and after that, she would never be alright again—would never be truly whole once more, and would become reduced to a broken shadow of her former herself.

One last night.

Kyoko was going to have to do everything she could to make it memorable, so that when she went back to her apartment tomorrow, she could hold onto this final night in her heart and soul. Her last wish while she was still with Ren was to be able to lay with him one more time. The girl had applied some light makeup in the form of a layer of foundation and lip gloss (she wasn't that skilled to apply anything more complex than that), more to hide her swollen eyes from her crying earlier than anything else, and had rubbed lotion all over her bare body after soaking in a long bath and thoroughly shampooing her hair. She'd contemplated shaving herself down south, but wasn't sure how, since she had never done it. She knew plenty of women got a Brazilian wax to make themselves feel sexier, but it sounded so scary she had never dared try it. A lot of men liked their lovers shaven, but somehow, Kyoko never got that vibe from Ren. He made every inch of her body feel appreciated and loved in bed, something Fuwa had never made her feel.

Tonight, she had put on a costly babydoll lingerie dress Ren had once gotten her that consisted of a naughty black bralette and a loose-fitting, somewhat see-through silk skirt trimmed with lace and frills that reached her upper thighs. There was matching underwear to go with the lingerie dress, but Kyoko had decided to forego it, an uncharacteristically daring move on her part. Tonight, she would make it all about Ren. She'd give him whatever it took to pleasure him. She was ashamed to admit that during their nightly escapades, he always put her first. Much to her mortification, she couldn't remember the last time she had returned the favor and properly serviced him the way he did for her. Occasionally, however, she'd felt slightly miffed that he always had the upper hand in bed, and their lovemaking had turned into a very sensual, fierce competition. She had tried to, for once, make Ren reach his completion first, and had ridden him hard, panting and sweating as she did so, only to meet his heated, amused and hungry dark eyes the whole time. After several minutes, he'd casually reached up, stroked her female opening at where they were joined, and carefully but skillfully fondled her little, swollen clitoris, and she'd immediately come undone.

The point was, she had never been able to make him finish first during intercourse, thanks to his insane control over his body, and it was so _unfair_.

In any case, Kyoko was determined to take the initiative to spice things up now and make tonight amazing for Ren, and after they were done making love for the final time in their relationship, they would talk over dinner, which she'd already cooked. All there was left to do was heat the dishes up. Over their meal, she would gather up the courage and tell him honestly all about her original plans, which involved getting herself intentionally pregnant—which she was sure he already knew—and that she did not want or need a father while raising the baby.

And Kyoko would make it clear she was sticking to the original plan. It would be difficult, but she had to do it. She didn't know what his reaction would be, but she willed herself to think about it later. Right now, she was going to pretend everything was fine.

That Ren was hers, and she his.

Just for tonight.

She peered out of their bedroom window, gazing into the setting sun, and felt her heart drum maniacally within her ribs at the sight of a familiar, posh SUV pulling smoothly into the garage of the modern terrace house. The tall, rumbling gates closed behind the vehicle.

He was home.

She sat on their king-sized bed, waiting nervously as the minutes ticked by, her face bright pink. She couldn't hear anything, which wasn't surprising, since Ren walked very quietly, his footsteps graceful and noiseless. The continued silence in the large house only escalated her anxiety and suspense. She wondered what he was thinking, coming back home and realising she hadn't greeted him at the main door. But Kyoko was just far too self-conscious and embarrassed dressed like this; she couldn't bring herself to leave the master bedroom in only her provocative black lingerie—and no panties. She would usually never dare to parade around while going commando, and half of her wondered if it was a good idea putting on the babydoll lingerie dress, after all.

Maybe it wouldn't be too late now to change back quickly before he—

The door knob turned, and the bedroom door opened.

Hazel eyes instantly met gleaming obsidian ones.

Kyoko couldn't help herself. She impulsively flung herself at Ren immediately, falling straight into his arms.

Screw it all. She'd missed him so much throughout their brief time apart, and she was going to show him just how much.

Kyoko got on tiptoes and kissed him fervently before he could even respond, her lips molding passionately against his startled ones. His satchel hit the floor. A second later, she felt Ren embrace her gently, bending down to accommodate her short height, her small, bralette-clad breasts resting against the hard muscled wall of his torso. Their kisses were wild, amorous, and mind-blowing, their tongues entwining intimately with each other. He entered her mouth boldly, taking his time to nibble the inside of her soft lips, his sharp teeth raking her vulnerable flesh. She shuddered in potent bliss at the sensation. Immediately, she was painfully aroused at tasting the heady essence that was Ren, feeling her naked nether region throb.

Ren broke off the kiss, making her mewl in protest. He spoke huskily, sounding both pleased and amused at the same time.

"I see you are… dressed for the occasion today."

His large hand moved fluidly down the translucent silk of her erotic lingerie and under its hem, and she felt her features flush when long, dextrous, slender male fingers cupped one of the bare, plump mounds of her derrière.

"No, wait," she said hoarsely, pulling away from him. "This isn't… I want to enjoy you tonight."

Ren's dark brow rose, but Kyoko ignored his expression and began peeling away his cashmere coat. He obliged silently, lowering his shoulders and releasing her as she tugged the coat off his arms, before tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor. Ignoring the entertained upturn of his lips, she started unbuttoning his dapper waistcoat and the front of his white, long-sleeved shirt, acutely aware of his heated, yearning gaze on her the whole time.

The material of his clothes fell apart, and magnificently hewn marble slabs of muscle greeted her dazed eyes. He was a work of art, so dazzling and so unblemished that it floored her. She ran her tiny hands down the warm sleek, ridged wall, marveling at his body's toned, almost feline beauty and at the rock-hard surface of his strong pectoral and abdominal muscles.

Just for tonight… He was all hers.

But sooner or later from tomorrow onward, another woman would eventually end up standing in Kyoko's present position, and take over Kyoko's rights to be able to kiss him, to embrace him, to touch his perfect skin. The thought of surrendering him—all of him—to another woman in the unknown future sent her a pang of jealousy and pain, and she inadvertently felt tears well up on her lids.

"Darling." Ren's baritone voice was gentle, and his hand tenderly caressed the side of her face. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't tell him about Juliena. There was no point.

"Nothing." Kyoko dropped to her knees so that she was facing his long legs. Overcome by her raging arousal—heightened by her pregnancy hormones—and by how aggressively territorial she was feeling, she fumbled with the already tented zip of his dress pants, her thin fingers shaky.

"My sweet." Ren's dark eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He knelt down at once with an agility she lacked and joined her on her knees, making her jump slightly at his sudden proximity. He firmly took both her diminutive, trembling hands away from the front of his dress pants, much to her indignation. She tried to pry her hands away from his far bigger ones, but it was like trying to free herself from steel.

"What is going on here?" he murmured levelly.

"I want to…" Kyoko's fine cheeks were suffused with color, but she pushed on anyway. "I want to taste you."

Ren's sultry, smoky dark eyes flashed. "Ah."

"And I want to—"

"I should have mentioned this earlier," he interrupted her softly, his flawless lips dipping to graze her knuckles. "You are quite the temptress tonight, Mogami-san, but it happens, you see, that Ruriko advised we hold off having intercourse for now. You are still frail from yesterday."

"_What?_" Kyoko's brown eyes largened in shock. "But I'm completely fine now!"

"Oh?" he inquired mockingly.

"I am," Kyoko insisted, trying not to allow his knowing tone to affect her. "Please. If we can't have sex, at least let me… pleasure you." She swallowed. "Just for tonight. Just tonight. It's very important to me."

Silence.

She knew she was sounding extremely odd and suspicious right now, but she didn't care. She wanted to taste all of Ren for the last time, to drink in every inch of his skin while she could. She wanted to ingrain his warmth and his body into her memory for many lonely, empty nights to come in the future, in knowing that on this very night, she'd been by his side, and he by hers, even if it was no longer the case anymore by then.

"As you wish," Ren responded sardonically, finally replying her.

Still holding her hands, he guided her little fingers to where the zip of his dress pants was, and her breath hitched excitedly at the impressive bulge she felt there. She held the zipper, and tugged it down.

Kyoko moved closer and slowly freed him from the front of his pants. He was extremely well-endowed, and she felt the area between her legs tighten and dampen drastically just looking at him. She curled her hand around his pulsing girth, and gave it a few rough strokes, feeling awed by the foreign sensation of velvet encasing his hardness.

"You haven't pleasured me yet," Ren purred. His midnight eyes were fixed on the slender, feminine curves of her hips and at the visible triangular thatch of pubic curls beneath her translucent babydoll lingerie.

"I'll try my best," Kyoko stammered, her fingers faltering from around his cock.

"Good."

And then she found herself crying out in surprise when Ren abruptly scooped her entire form up into his arms. He rose to his feet effortlessly and ventured to their bed, still cradling her in his possessive embrace, then lowered her gently onto the mattress, making sure she was comfortable. Before she could register what was going on, he had efficiently shed all his garments to swiftly join the heap on the floor, exposing the entirety of his glorious masculine body, and had moved so that he, too, was reclining languidly beside her amidst the pillows, his muscled thigh nudging and spreading her shapely legs apart. The hard presence of his male thigh pressed unapologetically—and deliberately—to the sensitive, wet junction between her legs increasingly stirred the molten heat in her lower belly at the thought of his penetration. The fact that she wasn't wearing underwear didn't help either, and she choked on her breath when he lazily thrust his muscled thigh upwards against the unclothed entrance of her sodden nether walls. She could feel the heavy weight of his erection prodding her flat, silk-covered abdomen.

"I thought I was—" she gasped delirously again when his thigh stroked her entrance. "—pleasuring you—"

"Oh, you are now, darling, believe me," he said quietly, his burning gaze predatory and intent as he studied her reddened countenance, her delectable pink lips quivering with wanton rapture. His erection seemed to grow heavier atop her belly as he took in the sight of her, and she shivered.

His raven head lowered and she cried out breathlessly when he rained fiery kisses down the milky column of her neck, her collarbone, and further down to her small cleavage.

"I wanted to…" Kyoko's high-pitched voice was strangled from the intoxicating tingling of his lips on the swell of her breasts. She tried to edge away, but ended up pulling him closer instead. "…pleasure…you, not me…"

"If you want to pleasure me, why won't you allow me to indulge, then?" Ren queried huskily, his long-fingered hand resting against the lace decorating her thighs as he insolently examined the black bralette cupping Kyoko's perky, tiny breasts.

"But I thought Dr. Ruriko said—"

"There are many ways, little one," Ren smiled wickedly, "to enjoy one another without having intercourse."

Before she could ask him what he meant—assuming she could find the strength to—he'd reached down under the hem of her lacy, ebony lingerie dress and curled his fingers into her dark pubic hair and deeper along the slippery folds of her womanhood. She emitted a ragged sound of ecstasy as he stroked the dewy, wet folds, fingertips tracing teasing, elaborate circles on the pliant, engorged flesh with great care. His strokes gradually slowed down, his spidery fingers easily locating and clasping the blood-filled, sensitized clit that peeped out from among her plump, moist walls. Even without looking, he knew exactly where it was, and Kyoko wailed in euphoria against his chest as he languorously rubbed her little soaked pearl, caressing it unabashedly between his adroit digits. Through her lust-induced haze she faintly noticed Ren hadn't slid any of his fingers inside of her like he normally would. Ren was probably the only man she knew who could access her g-spot with his fingers alone when they penetrated her, let alone when he fully mounted her during actual sex.

Hence, Kyoko was feeling somewhat disappointed that he hadn't breached past her opening. She was guessing it had something to do with Dr. Ruriko's damned advice back at her clinic, and in her current state of burning arousal, Kyoko silently cursed the doctor.

"_Ren_," she panted, arching herself closer towards him and grinding her pelvis against his large hand, his calloused thumb still vigorously grazing the feminine, swollen bud peeking out from the slick petals of her loins. Her juices abundantly coated his digits, but she didn't care. She was so close; her tummy had begun to tighten and her vision was blurry, a sign of her impending release. "I—I'm going to…"

She gasped, her miniature frame jolting on the bed.

He had stopped. Stopped!

Kyoko couldn't believe it. Ren had, of all things, suddenly ceased his ministrations, his fingers stilling. She had been so close, a mere second away from an explosive climax.

She burst out desperately, gripping his black hair. "_Ren_—"

Her lover tilted his head towards hers and whispered in her ear.

"What did she say to you today?"

Kyoko's cherry-red cheeks instantly drained of color; she turned pale at the unexpected introduction of a new topic. "What? Wh—who?"

"You know who, Mogami-san," Ren said unhurriedly, his obsidian eyes very bright.

She was dumbfounded, despite the sizzling carnal need in her womb from her near-orgasm.

So Ren knew. He knew she had talked to Juliena. Why was Kyoko even surprised, anyway? It had very possibly been broadcast on the news today; she remembered the busybody reporters filming the scene when she had been forced by Juliena Hizuri into her BMW. It just hadn't occurred to Kyoko that the news would have been broadcast so soon, or that Ren had actually watched the news. He had been away from home all day, after all, and she had thought he would be too busy working to watch anything on television.

Kyoko was broken from her reverie when she felt Ren's fingertips skimming across her thrumming clit again, and she moaned. She had been so close to her peak earlier that she started hurtling towards the edge once more with alarming velocity. She rolled her pale hips relentlessly against his fingers, eager for the burning friction of his skin against her hypersensitive nub. Soon, the scorching need in her core blazed, rising in intensity.

"_Ren!_"

He had stopped—again.

Kyoko wanted to fucking kill him.

She was so sexually frustrated now that she tried to place her own hands down under her lace skirt and to her groin so as to bring herself to completion, but his other larger hand curled around both her wrists with stunning dexterity, locking them together with his deft fingers. Kyoko strained, struggling almost hysterically to free herself, but he was so much stronger even with a single hand against both of hers.

"If you give me the answers I want, Mogami-san," Ren said silkily, "I'll give you what we both want."

"She didn't say anything to me, Ren, _please_—"

"Dishonesty will get you nowhere."

"She…" Kyoko gulped frantically. She was so painfully stimulated by his playful, wet fingers nonchalantly—and purposely—coiling a strand of her dark pubic curl around them that all she could think about was attaining her much-needed pinnacle. She wanted to come. She had to come. Kyoko was beyond reasoning now. She knew all she needed was the slight push from his obliging hand alongside her dripping, pink entryway, and she'd come. The carnal fire lapping in her womb was too much for her to take anymore. Kyoko knew she was going to regret it later, but she was too overtaken by her reckless desire right now to care. He had won this game of seduction, despite it supposedly being the other way around, considering how she had dolled herself up in sexy lingerie to tempt him tonight. She should have known better than to try to initiate it and win. Ren had, as usual, manipulated every little thing into his favor.

"She said my mother—"

The noisy cacophony of police sirens filled the air, filtering through the bedroom windows. Kyoko jerked on the mattress in surprise. Ren stiffened, midnight eyes narrowing with displeasure.

"What's going on?" Kyoko forced out, her breathing shallow and uneven. Her heart was hammering rapidly in her chest.

And then she could think no more when Ren's long, nimble digits pressed forcefully right onto the swollen bud of her clitoris, the mixture of mild pain and mind-numbing pleasure causing her to come undone.

When Kyoko finally recovered her senses from her fierce orgasm, she found herself reduced into a helpless mush on the bed, her limbs feeling like jelly and her slick, drenched passage still rippling sporadically from its climax beneath the frilly hem of her lingerie. She still felt empty, though, like she was missing something.

Missing having Ren inside of her.

She lifted her head blearily, and her belly lurched as a new streak of arousal erupted within her. He was still naked, his hard, unfulfilled erection jutting out, but he has risen from the bed and was putting on a velvet night robe. Tying the robe deftly around his waist so that it concealed his magnificent manhood from her shamefully disappointed eyes, he sent her an inscrutable glance, and her face turned red again when she realised what a picture she must look herself, her lingerie crumpled and her weakened legs spread apart, revealing her glistening, ripe entrance clearly to him. She didn't miss the hunger in his eyes as he picked up a new, smaller set of robes from their wardrobe, before approaching her on the bed and draping the material over her thin, petite, half-naked frame like a blanket. She gaped at him, bewildered and slightly annoyed. What was going on? Why had he stopped entirely? Did this have to do with the police sirens, odd and out of place as it was? But they had been in the middle of their session! She still wanted to… repay the favor.

Kyoko had never wanted to do anything more.

"Put this on," Ren said flatly. "We'll be expecting visitors soon. Stay here, if you wish."

As if right on cue, the doorbell rang. Her jaw slackened further in confusion. What the heck was happening?

And then, without any further explanation, Ren had turned gracefully on his heel, exited the room, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Police Inspector Ushio Kurosaki cleared his throat from where he sat on the sofa of the actor's lavish home, holding a steaming mug of coffee Tsuruga had offered him. He took a sip, and was elated to taste real coffee. Not the diluted poison served at his workstation, but the taste of authentic, freshly brewed coffee beans. The power of money, Kurosaki lamented ruefully. What wouldn't he do to get rich just so he could drink this amazing coffee everyday? The policeman cleared his throat again, then spoke.

"This is all part of protocol, Tsuruga-san. Please don't be alarmed; you're not in any trouble. We just want to ask a few questions, seeing as you are a… well, not a direct witness, but you were at the scene."

Tsuruga Ren sat opposite him, lounging comfortably on an armchair, appearing almost like a bored, powerful panther. He had not poured himself a beverage. Kurosaki could understand why so many women in the world went gaga for him—with his thick, ink-black hair swept back his head in tousled, sensuous waves, and at how arrogantly attractive he looked wearing nothing but a loosely-tied night robe, it was no wonder his sex appeal was widely revered. Sitting in the middle of his spacious lounge, he was a man of blatant control and authority; the centerpiece of his very own universe. He was also extremely mysterious, Kurosaki thought. There was something that more than met the eye about the seemingly perfect actor. That was the problem. No one was perfect, not even celebrities. And the more perfect the actor seemed, the more disconcerted Kurosaki was. Still, he figured that whether or not Tsuruga was perfect, it didn't mean a damn thing. Not with this case. He had a job to do, and that was just getting the facts right with the actor about today's mishap. That was all.

"There is no problem at all, Inspector," Tsuruga Ren said politely. "I am happy to assist. I assume this is about Manaka?"

"Oh! So you've seen the news already. This should make things easier, then. You are clear about the details of this case?"

"Yes."

"It must be very distressing for you, considering you and the victim, Momose-san, are involved romantically, and she got hurt—"

"We are not."

Kurosaki blinked, lowering his coffee mug. "I beg your pardon?"

"We are not involved romantically." Tsuruga lifted his broad shoulder in a careless shrug. "Of course, it is saddening to hear that she got hurt, but our relationship is a solely platonic one, Inspector. I regard her professionally, and nothing more."

Kurosaki's eyes widened under the lenses of his glasses.

So there it was. A lot of people had been baffled when news of Momose's hospitalization had gotten out and Ren had not showed up to visit his 'lover' at the hospital. All he had done was send a bouquet of flowers to her private ward, along with a get-well card, just like most of her famous friends and acquaintances in the entertainment industry had. It was all very… impersonal, frankly speaking. Everybody was picking up on that, and new rumors were spreading around, stating that perhaps, the media might have had exaggerated their so-called romance. Few bothered to contemplate that Momose and Ren might have an argument earlier or fought, hence his impersonal treatment of her; the well-known gentleman that was Tsuruga Ren would never neglect his lovers if they were _hospitalized_, regardless if there was trouble in paradise. The only explanation was that… Well, that they had never been lovers.

The Inspector took out his notepad from his breast pocket, together with a pen. His aide had turned in sick today, so Kurosaki had no choice but to handle this case alone for now. He was just damned lucky it wasn't a whopper of a case, nor a complicated one.

Or at least—regarding the latter—he hoped not.

"Let's get this straight, Tsuruga-san," he said. "You and the victim, Itsumi Momose, are just friends. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"You were photographed kissing her."

Tsuruga's smile was almost derisive. "Rather, it was the other way around."

Kurosaki's pen tapped his notepad bemusedly. "Then that's odd, because we assumed you went to Manaka's luncheon because of Itsumi Momose. Please, tell me, Tsuruga-san. For years you've avoided going to Manaka's luncheons where, as we know, all your former lovers are always gathered together. Why was today an exception? Did you want to see your former lovers again?"

Was it Kurosaki's imagination, or did he sense irritation in Tsuruga's onyx eyes, which flickered swiftly towards the sliding partition doors enclosing the lounge? However, the irritation was gone so fast that Kurosaki wondered if it was ever there.

"I went to the luncheon today because I wanted to apologize in person to Miss Momose," Tsuruga answered courteously. "The others present can attest to that."

"Apologize? What for?"

"For accidentally leading her on. I was aware, you see, of Miss Momose's feelings towards myself for quite a while, but I never took the time to acknowledge them and to properly reject her. I had hoped that she would forget about me eventually on her own and move on. But when the kiss was photographed yesterday, I realised she was now entertaining the notion that her feelings were reciprocated. And that just wouldn't do, especially when the media started depicting us as a couple. Instead of humiliating her by immediately releasing a public statement that we were, in fact, not romantically involved, I decided to find a time where we could meet so that I could apologize to her face-to-face, and to also make things clear about what stands between us. I heard she had been invited to Manaka's luncheon, and as you can guess, the rest is history."

Kurosaki was stunned. "Well, I must say you are very considerate, Tsuruga-san."

Tsuruga shook his head. "I would much rather avoid conflict, is all. But seeing as what transpired after I left..." He sighed, sounding so genuinely regretful that Kurosaki almost felt sorry for him. "It is my fault. I should have taken Manaka's dangerous temperament more into consideration, Inspector."

"No, there is no point blaming yourself on something that was obviously beyond your control," Kurosaki said sympathetically. Tsuruga Ren seemed to have an innocent answer for everything, making a softening Kurosaki less uneasy with the actor. He added, his tone brisk and businesslike again, "Speaking of which, you left the luncheon early. May I know why?"

"Ah." Tsuruga's eyes were distant. Then they sharpened, almost frighteningly acute. "Have you seen the news today, Inspector? Manaka's assault is not the only thing attracting attention this afternoon."

"Well…" Kurosaki's forehead wrinkled in thought, unsure what the actor was getting at. "There was the whole fiasco about Juliena Hizuri showing up in Tokyo and some girl she brought into her car."

"That girl is my current partner. Naturally, I was very concerned and puzzled when I saw her, not at home, but all over the news on the television with a huge star like Juliena Hizuri—whom she doesn't know and should have no business with. I left the luncheon early to investigate."

"Your current partner?" Kurosaki was shocked. "You know the girl Juliena was with today?"

"Surely you have seen her before yourself." Tsuruga's lips curved. "She was my date at the Star Awards."

* * *

Kyoko's knees were weak from where she leaned against the closed sliding doors leading to the lounge on the other side. She'd been eavesdropping on the conversation the whole time behind the doors, dressed in the long-sleeved night robe Ren had given her so that it was snugly wrapped around the lingerie underneath, covering almost all inches of her initially exposed skin. Her head spun as she recalled what the policeman had said.

_"For years you've avoided going to Manaka's luncheons where, as we know, all your former lovers are always gathered together. Why was today an exception? Did you want to see your former lovers again?"_

Someone named Manaka had held a luncheon today; a luncheon that constituted of all of Ren's exes.

And Ren had attended the luncheon.

Why? That was the problem. Why? Kyoko couldn't understand it. There was absolutely no reason for him to attend a luncheon where all his exes were. For work? What were the chances he was there to discuss work with all his _exes_? For social networking? That was so stupid. What kind of social networking did he have to do to entertain all his past flames? And Kyoko didn't want to buy his reason. He wanted to apologize to Momose? The copper-haired girl had never felt more bitter, angry, and resentful. Momose was the one who had tried to ensnare Ren away from Kyoko. Momose was the other woman in the situation, for kissing a man she already knew was taken, not to mention by a woman who was pregnant with his child! Didn't that make her a homewrecker? She'd been so rude to Kyoko at the Star Awards, an evident sign that she didn't like Kyoko. Kyoko had felt so small in front of Momose, so insignificant, so insecure. And now Ren was saying he had wanted to apologize to Momose, like the latter was the victim here? What about Kyoko? Didn't she mean anything to him at all? It seemed he cared a lot more for Momose than he did for Kyoko.

She jumped when the sliding doors abruptly pulled open, revealing an indecipherable Ren, dressed similarly in the velvet night robe that was open slightly at his chest, where slabs of hard muscle were visible.

He scanned her countenance soundlessly, then said evenly, "He's gone now."

Kyoko stared back at Ren. There was so many words she wanted to say that she didn't know where to start.

"You didn't have to hide here, you know." Ren's flawless lips quirked. "You could have come out."

She swallowed, forcing herself to ignore the dryness of her throat. "Is it true?"

His ebony brow rose, but he didn't look surprised. "Is what true?"

"You know what," Kyoko snapped. "You went to a luncheon today to meet all your exes? To… what, _apologize_ to Momose?"

There was a pregnant pause.

Ren's long, sooty lashes dipped, then lifted again. He sounded so tranquil that it enraged her further. "I was not completely honest with the Inspector. It's not what you think."

"No, because I don't know what _you_ think half the time!" Kyoko shouted, her voice cracking. "You never tell me what you're thinking! You announced my pregnancy to the world without asking my permission! You let another woman kiss you, and I only have your word for it that you didn't kiss her back! You know I nearly lost the baby because of Momose, but instead of getting mad at her, you wanted to bloody apologize to her! You're not mad at her one bit, are you? I don't even know if you care about me or the baby, or if you're just pretending to! I don't… know—" She faltered as horror and heartbreak sank in. "I feel like I don't know anything about you at all."

"Mogami-san," Ren cut in quietly, eyes glittering as he briefly took in the ashen, deathly pale hue of her face. "Enough. We will talk about this properly once you've calmed down."

"Oh, are you worried now that I'm overexerting myself?" Kyoko spat. "But don't worry, because I have nothing left to say to you. I'm sick of all your bullshit and your half-truths!"

"How about you?" Ren said dangerously, cognac eyes darkening into a shade of black. "You chose to enter my bed all for the motive of becoming a mother. You planned to leave me the moment my back was turned. You spoke to Juliena Hizuri today, but instead of confiding in me your secrets and your troubles regarding what Juliena said to you, you choose to say nothing. You think I can't help you, when you never even asked me for help? You think I don't know that you plan to give us up and leave me today, like you've already planned to since the start of our relationship? You think I don't know—" He gestured mockingly at her night robe, where her babydoll lingerie was hidden beneath, making her flinch and her face color. "—what this is about?"

They scrutinised each other, man and woman. The truth was out now in the open, but in the worst way possible. Kyoko realised then, her blood as cold as ice, that the man she loved and had shared so many intimate nights with was now a stranger in her eyes.

And then it hit her what was wrong… What had been so wrong between them all along.

They didn't trust each other, and probably never had.

If she had trusted him, she wouldn't have deceived him and tried to hide her pregnancy from him. If he had trusted her, he would have discussed with her about announcing her pregnancy prior to the awards show. If she had trusted him, she wouldn't constantly fear that he would cheat on her with Momose. If he had trusted her, he would have confided in her yesterday about his plans on going for the luncheon, for whatever skewed reasons she didn't know. If she had trusted him, she would have told him about Juliena, and asked him for help with Saena's impending scandal.

Their relationship had formed from an act of distrust since the very beginning, after all—her act of distrust.

And it hurt her more than anything else.

Kyoko choked out the words, tears already forming around her eyes.

"I think we should break up."

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N: **First of all, I'd say I never expected this chapter to be so long. I hope the word count didn't scare you guys off. I always plan out the events that will happen in each chapter in advance, but I had no idea it would be so long.

Secondly, I hope the long chapter will make up for any future lateness in terms of updates. I'm working a full-time job and there's almost no time to write at all save for the weekends. But to all my 'Stretch Marks' readers, don't worry; I have planned out a lot of drama to come, and I just need time to finish writing the newest chapter. It's not easy juggling two fics and a full-time job, haha. But it's a happy kind of juggle, so thank you so much to my kind reviewers for supporting me!


	15. Chapter 15

_:Chapter 15:_

_"I think we should break up."_

Already Kyoko regretted those words, but she gritted her teeth and stuck to her guns. The tears swimming around her brown eyes weren't helping though, and she was an idiot if she should think Ren wouldn't notice them. But at least her voice didn't quaver—much—and she hadn't started bawling yet.

For a long minute, a stifling, tense silence filled the house. Nobody said a word, and Kyoko's heart thudded maniacally in her chest, begging him to respond already instead of suffocating her with his disconcerting quietness. His angular features held a frustratingly blank expression, so that it was near impossible for the girl to decipher his emotions. Was he angry? Was he annoyed? Or was he… actually compliant with her declaration?

Kyoko hadn't realised she was swaying on her feet from an unexpected bout of dizziness when Ren's hand gently took her elbow and led her into the living room and to the vinyl sofa. She didn't resist his touch, but simply sat down onto the plush surface wearily, aware that his long fingers remained around her elbow. The woman rested her head against the back of the sofa, sighing.

"I mean it," Kyoko said again, once her dizziness subsided. Each word tasted like bile as they were choked out from her lips. "I think it's better this way in the long run for the both of us. Let's end things here, Tsuruga-san."

To her incredulity, Ren looked amused. _Amused!_ She was ripping her heart out by telling him this, and he had the nerve to look amused!

"Are you certain," Ren inquired casually, as if they were only talking about the weather, "that you are not saying this just so you can put off your side of our agreement?"

Kyoko stared at him, baffled. "What agreement?"

Ren arched a brow. He'd seated himself next to her on the couch, crossing his legs under his robes gracefully. "Surely you haven't forgotten our deal?"

"Forgotten what deal?" Kyoko demanded impatiently.

"A day," Ren enunciated smoothly. "We agreed after the Star Awards ended that I would grant you a day of freedom, and once you were back we would have a long talk. I don't think we have had the talk yet, darling."

Oh. _Oh_.

For some reason, that deal felt like centuries ago even though they had just agreed to it yesterday. The subsequent series of events that had transpired after the end of the Star Awards had been distracting and draining enough. One would think that the Star Awards had packed enough drama for an entirety of her lifetime, but no, Kyoko still had plenty of conflict to deal with. There had been Sho's callous abduction of her person, news of Ren and Momose's kiss breaking out, then Ren and Sho's violent altercation, and finally she'd nearly miscarried back in Dr. Ruriko's clinic. The next day, Kyoko had been kidnapped (again!), this time by the mysterious superstar Juliena Hizuri, and been told and threatened about Kyoko's mother's impending legal scandal. And now, Kyoko had learnt that Ren had attended a luncheon earlier today with all his exes. It was too much, really. She'd resolved to herself plenty of times that she would have a long talk with Ren about the many issues between them, but one revelation came popping up after another, leaving her breathless and reeling. The discovery about her mother's corruption was bad enough; she didn't need to know about Ren's luncheon date, too.

Kyoko swallowed, speaking up at last. "That's not fair. I never really had a whole day of freedom."

"You had another day to yourself today," Ren pointed out coolly, undeterred. "And it is hardly my doing that Fuwa Sho intercepted you during your one day of freedom yesterday."

Kyoko bit her lip. She knew she owed him her side of the agreement, no matter what. Besides, she'd already planned to have a good, honest talk with Ren, anyway, before asking for a break-up. She just hadn't expected to hear about the luncheon today, which had completely thrown her off and, loathe as she to admit it, had hurt her.

She sighed heavily. "Okay. Let's talk."

The moment of truth, she thought with some dread, had finally arrived.

"Very well." Ren's lips curved sardonically. "Where shall we begin, then?"

"I'll begin," Kyoko said hastily. Her palms were clammy and her mouth was dry, but she steeled herself to go on. She needed to get this over and done with, the sooner the better. They had disregarded the elephant in the room long enough. "Um. So. Let's go all the way back. You know how Shotaro and I broke up a long time ago, right?"

Ren watched her intently, but she didn't miss how his beautiful onyx eyes darkened with displeasure at the mention of the blond singer. "Yes."

"I was… I was in a bad state." Kyoko tugged mindlessly at the edge of her night robe, trying to ignore how exposed and vulnerable she felt. "Around that time, Moko-san gave birth to her first baby: Coco-chan. I had just been cheated on and dumped, and I… I don't know. I was so lonely and depressed, and Moko-san looked so happy when her child was born. I guess I just wanted someone to love. Someone I knew wouldn't ever leave me, and someone I could spend my life with. I wanted a baby, like Moko-san had Coco."

And now her dreams were soon to become reality, judging by the life in her belly.

Somehow, that thought gave her strength to continue. Besides, it wasn't like this was all news to Ren, was it?

"I considered getting a donor from the sperm bank," Kyoko went on, her face flushing lightly. "But then, I met you, at Sho's party."

Ren murmured, "I remember."

"You were perfect," Kyoko whispered dazedly. "Your measurements, everything. You looked completely healthy, you were robust, tall, and you're the perfect-looking adult male. I couldn't detect a flaw in your genetic code. And I knew you would be the best father my baby could have…" She coughed, embarrassed. "Genetically speaking, I mean."

A wry look reflected off Ren's exotic obsidian eyes. "I see."

"So I decided I wanted Tsuruga-san as my…" Kyoko trailed off, not knowing how to say it.

"Sperm donor?" he suggested, the corners of his sculpted lips quirking.

She flinched, her cheeks burning. "Ye—yeah." Taking a deep breath, Kyoko went on to ask a question she'd wanted to ask for a very long time. "How did you know?"

"How did I know what?" Ren enquired silkily. "That you were pregnant? Or that you planned to use me as a sperm donor?"

"Everything," Kyoko said softly.

There was a thoughtful pause, and then Ren spoke.

"I believe you are already aware that your friend Kotonami-san texted me the day you ceased taking your birth control," he said. "And on the same night that you stopped taking it, I fucked you right on this very sofa." The actor smiled wickedly, taking in her scarlet face. "Didn't I, darling?"

Kyoko spluttered, too overcome by her mortification at his bluntness to form coherent sentences.

His smile turned fond as he reached out a large, strong hand and gently caressed her cheek. "You're so adorable."

"Just continue with your story, already!" Kyoko snapped, ignoring the tantalizing sensation of his warm thumb stroking her cheek.

"I knew then, that there was a possibility you might have conceived that night," Ren responded unhurriedly. "You were not on birth control, and I did not utilize protection on my part. I could not be sure if we had conceived, of course, but I knew you would be equally aware of the possibility. The soonest a woman can detect her pregnancy is a week after conception, and it can be detected using the First Response pregnancy test kit. So exactly a week after that very night on this sofa, I was on the lookout. It is not difficult to look at the trash, Mogami-san, and you did not disappoint me."

Kyoko's jaw dropped. "But I threw the test kit out! I made sure it wasn't in the house by the time you came home!"

"The garbage truck does not come and pick up the trash until eleven at night," Ren informed her serenely. "You threw the trash into a plastic bag outside the house, and the bag was near empty. Anyone would wonder why you want to throw out the trash when the plastic bag was not even fully filled, let alone someone who was on the lookout."

Kyoko was speechless. She was literally stumped for words.

"I examined the used test kit, and and it showed a positive result," Ren concluded calmly. "That's how I knew."

"But…" she stammered. "How did you know I wanted to use you as a spe…sperm donor?"

"Ah," Ren said slowly. "I received that information from a certain source."

"Was it Moko-san again?!" Kyoko wanted to know disbelievingly.

"No," Ren answered amusedly, shaking his head. "She texted me the night you went off birth control, and that was all she ever told me about you."

"But I told no one else about my plans other than Moko-san!" Kyoko exclaimed. Then a startling epiphany struck her, and she gasped, straightening up. "Unless… You mean her husband? Hiou-san? I know she might have told him about me."

"That is correct." Ren's dark eyes were far away. "He's a very good friend of mine in the entertainment world. He warned me about you, out of goodwill of our friendship, I suppose. But his wife—your friend—has no idea, and he would prefer it if it was kept this way."

Kyoko was stunned. She barely saw the famous actor Hiou Uesugi, so she didn't feel too betrayed. Hiou had been an actor since he was a mere child, and his acclaimed status in the showbiz was an undeniable force. It made sense; since Hiou didn't know Kyoko well, he would not feel any loyalty towards her. Ren and Hiou had always been genuinely good friends as fellow film icons, so Hiou must have felt obligated to warn Ren about Kyoko's schemes. Kyoko knew Kanae had told her husband about Kyoko's want for a baby, but Kanae had assured Kyoko that the latter's secret would be kept within the Uesugi household. Kanae and Hiou were an extremely close-knit couple, after all, and it was only natural that Kanae would discuss Kyoko's situation with him from time to time. Seeing how stoic and disinterested Hiou always looked during the rare times Kyoko saw him, she'd always assumed he didn't give a damn about her. But presently it was pretty evident that he'd disapproved enough of Kyoko's methods to warn Ren. And now… Kyoko wasn't sure if she should tell Kanae about this. Kanae might end up furious at her husband, assuming that she hadn't already found out about what he'd done.

"Don't look so shocked, darling," Ren said gently, taking her hand. "Even if he had not told me, I could have guessed."

Kyoko glared at him, turning rigid. "How?"

He shrugged lazily, his dexterous, calloused fingers tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand. "You had baby fever. It was very apparent. How many times, Mogami-san, have you ended up in the baby section at the store when we went shopping? How many times have I seen you surfing the net for baby clothing on your phone? And how many times have you offered to go over to Kotonami-san's place to babysit her child, even when it wasn't necessary?"

Kyoko wanted to just curl up and die. To think she had been so transparent all this time when she'd thought she was being discreet—she was so humiliated right now! The woman chewed her lip, averting her eyes awkwardly away from Ren's as her belly clenched.

"That's what I have always loved about you," Ren commented.

Her copper head jerked back towards him in surprise. "Huh?"

"You wear your heart on your sleeve," he elaborated, flawless lips rising in a crooked smile. "People like that are very rare."

Kyoko flushed for what seemed to be the nth time today.

"I—I have another question," she stuttered, quickly changing the topic. She took a deep breath, then blurted out, "Why did you announce my pregnancy at the Star Awards without consulting me first? Were you trying to get back at me for using you?"

Ren's smile faded, and his thumb stilled over the milky skin of her hand. "No, Mogami-san." His obsidian eyes bored into her hazel ones with an intensity that sent chills running down her spine. "I would never intentionally want to hurt you. Ever. Do you understand me?"

"Then… Why?"

The intensity in his eyes sharpened further. "Do you know what kind of person I am?"

Kyoko was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"When I desire something very, very much," Ren purred softly, his sensual mouth suddenly set in a cruel line, "I can't ever let it go. You bring out that side of myself—a side that has been dormant for years. Announcing your pregnancy was just so I could stake a claim. You can try to run away all you want, darling, but you're mine, and I am never letting you go."

Goosebumps broke out of Kyoko's skin at the dark possessiveness in his deep, velvety-rich tone. She knew he was referring to the time back when she had foolishly assumed he was unaware of her pregnancy and had planned to secretly leave his side while pregnant so that she could eventually raise their child on her own. Kyoko had always known that her lover had a possessive streak to him, but never to this extent. There was no sign of the kind and gentlemanly Tsuruga Ren here.

A predator sat in his place.

And it was just fucking sick and wrong that hot arousal instantly pooled between her weakened legs.

Ren's lush baritone voice took on a mocking note. "Are you going to try to run away again now, Kyoko?"

It was the first time he'd called her by her first name to her.

And this was it, she realised. This was the biggest milestone in their relationship, which would either make them or break them.

"Maybe," Kyoko said bravely, much as she knew she hated saying it. "We have far too many issues between us. We don't even…" She faltered, gulped, and then continued hoarsely, "We don't trust each other at all."

He regarded her impassively. "No, we do not."

Kyoko tried not to show much his agreement stung.

"Isn't it weird?" she asked bitterly. "We've been together for months, but we don't trust each other one bit. They say trust is supposed to be earned, but I think… I think it's too late for that."

A silence followed her words.

And then, Ren spoke, in such a low voice she almost couldn't hear him.

"You met my mother today."

Kyoko blinked stupidly, feeling perplexed. "What?"

"Don't tell me she has already slipped your mind," Ren prompted teasingly. "You sat in her car today. You spoke to her today. People filmed you."

One second ticked by. And then another.

Kyoko leapt to her feet clumsily, her hazel eyes widening and her jaw nearly unhinging itself.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she cried out, barely able to process his statement. "Are you saying _Juliena Hizuri_ is your mother?"

"Yes," Ren replied gently, grasping her wrist to keep her from falling over. "I am."

"Have you gone nuts?! That's impossible!"

"Hmm. Is it?"

What the fuck was going on?

Kyoko stared at him, flabbergasted. "I'm telling you that's not possible! Don't just make things up! She's Caucasian! You don't look anything like her! You're—you're—"

She studied his exotic, gorgeous features weakly, peering at the high cheekbones, straight nose, and the chiseled jawline as if she was seeing his face for the first time. He always looked extraordinarily attractive, but she had never once doubted his racial origins. Kyoko had assumed he was just abnormally gifted in the looks department. Besides, there was no denying his dark hair and dark eyes, which were a stark contrast against Juliena's green eyes and golden locks.

But if he had Caucasian blood in him, it would explain why his features were so exotic and unusual.

"My father is a full-blooded Japanese," Ren chuckled. "So, yes, I am half-Japanese, and half-American."

"But your surname!" Kyoko shook her head frantically. "No, this doesn't make sense!"

"'Haven't you heard of a stage name, darling?" Ren responded good-naturedly. "'Tsuruga Ren' is my second name."

"You're insane!"

"My love," Ren laughed, tugging her petite form closer to him, "I can assure you I am not."

Kyoko's pulse leapt.

The wealthy, famous, breathtakingly glamorous Juliena Hizuri… was Ren's _mother_?

Kyoko had searched Juliena and her husband up online just an hour ago, though it had never occurred to her who they really were, not until now. Ren had never talked to her about his parents, and she'd never asked him. But this was just…

It made sense, however. She could deny what he was saying and refuse to let his explanation sink in for as long as she wanted, but the logic was irrefutable. It made sense as to why Juliena Hizuri was so obsessed with Ren, despite being a married woman. It wasn't because she was cheating on her husband, Kuu Hizuri (who, oh God, was Japanese like Ren said, which explained how Ren could conceal his Caucasian blood from the whole of Japan by utilizing his mixed Asian heritage that he had gotten from his father), but because Tsuruga Ren was her son. That was why she seemed so desperate to get Ren to contact her. She wasn't an older woman hitting on a younger man; in fact, her age was completely logical now that she was actually Ren's mother. No wonder Juliena had been so protective of Ren, judging by the fact that she kept accusing Kyoko of being a scheming gold-digger. She'd declared that Kyoko 'hounded' Ren. She had gone as far as to bribe Kyoko in order to get the latter to stay away from Ren, and had even _slapped_ Kyoko. From the blonde's perspective as a mother bear, Kyoko was a threat to her baby cub. And Kyoko had been so blinded by jealousy, thinking Juliena was another one of Ren's exes. She had completely mistaken Juliena's maternal love—for that was what it was—towards Ren for something else.

If what Ren proclaimed was true, then everything was a mess. Kyoko groaned, feeling utterly humiliated. Juliena, Ren's mother, saw Kyoko as a fucking gold-digger! Kyoko was carrying Juliena's grandchild, but Juliena didn't believe it. And Kyoko had been so rude to her boyfriend's mother! Not to mention Juliena utterly despised Kyoko's corrupt mother, which further damaged her personal impression of Kyoko. And if Kyoko didn't leave Ren, Juliena would spill the beans about Saena's scandal to the public, thus destroying Saena's career.

Juliena had gone from an enemy to something way, way more complicated.

"Other than me," Kyoko said shakily, still shell-shocked by Ren's revelation, "Who else knows about this?"

"President Lory, and a few of his subordinates."

"How about Yashiro-san and the rest of your management team?"

"They do not know," Ren stated mildly. "And they are not allowed to know. That includes the rest of the world, as well as the LME Agency."

Kyoko's slim body shook from where she was pressed against his tall, muscled one. The enormity of what he had just disclosed to her made her head reel.

"Why?" she questioned, exhaling shallowly. "Why did you tell me?"

His toned, firm arms went around her narrow waist and picked her up effortlessly, then lowered her onto his cat-like body until she was straddling his lap. Kyoko's breath hitched and she squeaked when she felt the hardness of his unmistakable erection against her inner thighs. Arousal instantly sparked once more in her lower belly, and the fact that she wore a babydoll lingerie with no panties under her night robe only made things worse.

"You said that trust had to be earned, did you not?" Ren murmured languorously into the side of her ear, making her shiver. "We will each have to make an effort to build a new level of trust, then."

"So this is... you making an effort?" Kyoko queried, her doe eyes largening.

"I suppose you can say that."

This was far more than just an effort. He had just confided in her a secret that was meant to be kept hidden from the entire world. Despite the lack of trust between them, he'd made a point right now to start changing the dynamics of their relationship. It could not have been easy for him to reveal to her such an important, classified piece of information; what if she accidentally leaked the truth to the world? Her lover was taking a huge gamble by entrusting his secret to her.

And damn if she wasn't touched.

"This is a really big thing, Ren," Kyoko whispered. He'd called her by her first name, so she didn't see why she couldn't address him by his, too. The name _'Ren'_—though it wasn't exactly his real name anymore, according to him—rolled between her lips like a hidden gem, sending thrills through her veins. She had only ever called him by his first name when she was caught up by their physical activities in his bed, but never like this, in such a serious setting. Judging by the way he'd stilled, he had definitely noticed it. "I'm still not sure how to react."

There were so many questions she wanted to ask him. If his mother was American, why was he in Japan? Why not stay in his homeland? Why had he changed his name instead of using his real one, which would no doubt throw him into the spotlight easily, given his celebrity parents? And why was he no longer in contact with his mother?

"What did Julie say to you today, Kyoko?" Ren said quietly.

Kyoko stiffened immediately.

She couldn't tell him. She couldn't. If she told him about Juliena's ultimatum (that Kyoko was to leave Ren or Juliena would expose Mogami Saena's scandal), Ren might confront his mother, and Juliena might get so angry that she would carry out with her threat. Kyoko could not ruin her mother like this, even if her feelings for Saena were one-sided.

Kyoko sighed wanly. "I can't say."

Ren's perfect lips flattened. "I see."

She flinched at how toneless he sounded.

"Look, don't act like I'm the only one with secrets to hide," Kyoko said defensively. "You still haven't told me why you were at the luncheon with all your exes and Momose."

"I would tell you, but it is evident you're not willing to share any of your secrets with me," Ren drawled smoothly. "I can't be the only one making the effort here, my sweet."

Kyoko let out a deep, guilty breath. He was right. He'd told her his secret, but she hadn't made any effort herself to earn his trust.

"You can have my spare apartment key," she blurted, without thinking.

Oh, God. She was so dumb. Who cared about a stupid key?

His dark brows rose. "Oh?"

"I, um, I'll be going back tomorrow to my place to do some spring cleaning," Kyoko explained hastily. She didn't let him know that she'd initially planned to go back for good. "You can drop by any time. Maybe I can see you at my place for lunch."

Ren's smoky eyes darkened. "Why?"

"I mean, it's fine if you don't want to drop by," Kyoko babbled. "I'm just saying you _can_, that's all—"

"Why do you have to go back to your apartment?"

Oh.

Kyoko fidgeted from where she was curled on his lap. "I haven't gone back for a whole month. It's beyond dirty and dusty; I need to clean it up. That apartment is my home, Ren."

"I don't think so." Ren's lips grazed her forehead. "You stayed in that place, Kyoko, when you were very unhappy and lonely. You said so yourself. You may have lived there, but it is not your home."

"Well... You may be right," Kyoko mumbled hesitantly, staring, hypnotized, at the strands of lustrous raven hair that curled against his dignified neck.

"I always am," he murmured.

She lightly punched the hard muscles of his chest. It was like punching granite. "I'm still going back tomorrow for some spring cleaning!"

More truthfully, Kyoko needed to head back to her apartment for some private space so that she could regroup and reflect on her next move. Now that her already complicated relationship with Ren had complicated further, she needed to think about how to solve her situation with Juliena. If Juliena found out Kyoko was still dating Ren, she might do exactly as she threatened and expose Saena. But what if she found out Kyoko was truly pregnant—and not pretending to, as Juliena had assumed—with her flesh and blood? Kyoko regretted immensely that she did not correct Juliena's false assumption that Kyoko was feigning her pregnancy. For if Juliena was Ren's mother, then Kyoko would be carrying her grandchild. This changed things, because Juliena had a right to know. Would she really want Kyoko to leave, then?

Kyoko needed to find an opportunity to contact Juliena. And she needed to do so in a way where Ren would not be aware of it. Going back to her apartment should give her some time to think.

Ren cupped her tiny hand in his big, masculine one. "I would rather you did not," he said flatly. "You are hardly in the right condition now to be exerting yourself."

Kyoko squared her small shoulders. "Ren. We talked about trust. Didn't we? Well, I need you to trust me about this. Trust me that, just for the morning, I'll be in my apartment and I'll take care of myself. I'm just cleaning the place. I'm not going to move anything heavy. Besides, you're going to have my spare key. You can come drop by any time."

A hushed lull fell between them. His expression had turned almost glacial.

Kyoko's throat convulsed from the mounting tension in the air, but she refused to back down.

Finally Ren spoke, though his baritone voice was mocking. "As you wish, then, darling. I will drop you off at your apartment tomorrow morning. I need to submit some paperwork to Yashiro-san, and after that I will head back to your apartment to have lunch with you."

And so it was decided—a mutual compromise from both sides.

Kyoko nodded timidly, relaxing. "Okay." Their talk was finally over…for now, and she felt almost light-headed with relief. It hadn't gone as terribly as she had feared, though she knew there would be a continuation at some point since there were still several things that had yet to be explained and cleared up between them.

But as of now, she hoped this was enough.

* * *

Konoe sat in the room of his study, his mouth trembling as he drank his whiskey.

The gravity of his situation weighed upon his shoulders like heavy bricks. His daughter, Manaka, was in prison—or at least, she was currently being held under custody while awaiting her verdict. As Itsumi Momose was not badly hurt and would almost definitely be making a steady recovery, his attorneys, including Mogami Saena, assured him that the verdict would not be too severe. It was most likely that Manaka would just have to foot all of Momose's medical expenses.

No, Konoe was not distraught because he was worried about Manaka's verdict. Money was not an issue to him. It was the suffering his daughter was being put through that was tormenting him. His daughter was delicate; she wasn't made for prison, temporary as it might be. And there was already plenty of talk in the country about her unstable mental state, which made Konoe utterly furious. Throughout Manaka's childhood he had taken great care of her and made sure that no harm came her way. He indulged in every one of her wants and needs to keep her content. Some would remark that he spoiled her, but even if that was true, what was wrong with that? If anyone deserved happiness, it was Manaka. What she did not deserve was to go through this terrible ordeal. Her reputation was shattered and he could only just imagine the trauma she must be experiencing trapped inside that dim, filthy prison cell.

And whose fault was that?

Tsuruga Ren, of course.

Tsuruga Ren. The mere name of that damned actor made Konoe see red. His beloved daughter had spent years and years devoting herself to him, and Ren had never acknowledged her feelings, let alone return them. How could someone be so brutal? Ren should feel honored that someone as beautiful and distinguished as Konoe's little girl loved him. Manaka's whole life revolved around Tsuruga Ren, but he never gave her the time of the day. What a bastard! It was because of Ren's silent treatment towards Manaka that her sanity had deteriorated. And due to her deteriorating state of mind, she'd stabbed Itsumi Momose, and was now in dire straits. Not to mention Ren had actually once been in a relationship with Manaka many years ago, and he had cruelly ended things with her. Konoe was livid; how dare anyone actually abandon his daughter? He'd never forgiven Ren for it, and now his hatred towards Ren intensified further. If Ren had paid more attention to Manka, she wouldn't have become deranged like this.

A knock on the door sounded before it slid open silently, and the butler materialized to face his master.

"A Miss Fuji Yuki is here, sir," he intoned. "Shall I send her up, or…?"

Konoe squinted suspiciously. "Who is that?"

"I believe she is Itsumi Momose's manager, sir," the butler explained.

Just fantastic. Konoe sighed sourly. He supposed she was here to confront him for what Manaka had done to Momose. So far he hadn't spoken directly to anyone representing Momose; he'd left that task to his own representatives. As it happened, his people had already communicated with Momose's people in his stead, so why did Fuji Yuki still want to see him personally?

He couldn't exactly refuse to see her. What if she took offense and persisted in filing further charges against his daughter? No, the diplomatic thing to do now was to butter up all of Momose's representatives. Even if his own attorneys were confident that Manaka would be relatively safe from any serious prosecution, it would do no harm if he could present a contrite mask to Itsumi Momose and her management team.

A minute later, his butler ushered in a ruthless, efficient-looking woman dressed in an impeccable pantsuit.

So this was Itsumi Momose's manager.

"Fuji-san," Konoe greeted her genially, rising from behind his table. "Would you like some tea?"

She nodded, shaking his offered hand. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking—her face was a stolid mask. He observed her cautiously. She looked so composed he couldn't imagine that she had come here to heap verbal abuse at him. There was no visible sign of hostility on her part, though one could never tell.

Before long, both parties sat opposite each other, a glass of whiskey on his side and a hot, steaming cup of tea on hers.

For a while, no one said anything. They remained seated, while eyeing the other warily.

And then, Fuji spoke.

"I'm here, Konoe-san," she said, "for a proposition."

Konoe blinked, alert. "Yes?"

"You have power and connections," she replied. "While I have connections, I do not have the power to use them for my own selfish purposes."

Konoe felt uncomfortable. "I'm not sure what you are getting at, Fuji-san—"

"I believe we have a common enemy," Fuji stated plainly. "Tsuruga Ren."

Huh?

Konoe was astonished. "Well, yes, but how is he _your_ enemy?"

A pause.

"If you must know, Konoe-san, Momose is like a daughter to me," Fuji elaborated. "I care for her more than a manager would to a charge. As I've said, my feelings for her are very maternal. And I will not forgive the man responsible for her assault."

Konoe fidgeted in his seat. "Technically, actually…"

Fuji smiled mirthlessly. "I know. Manaka was the one who stabbed her. But what you don't see, is that Manaka was a mere puppet caught in a very clever ploy. And Tsuruga Ren was the puppeteer."

What the heck was she talking about?

"I'm afraid I fail to grasp your meaning, Fuji-san," he protested weakly.

"Why did Ren attend Manaka's luncheon?" Fuji said impatiently. "He ignored her for years, but suddenly, he accepts her invitation. Why? I'm sure that if anyone asks him, he will come up with plenty of plausible reasons as to why. He is clever that way, I admit. But I know the truth. He came because he wanted to hurt Momose. Manaka was his pawn. Ren likes to play with the emotions of others—in this case, jealousy. And jealousy was what he used to get Manaka to hurt Momose… in his place."

The first thing Konoe felt was shock.

And then, anger swiftly sank in.

"Are you saying that Tsuruga Ren _manipulated_ my daughter into doing his bidding?" Konoe hissed. His hands had begun to shake, and he lowered his glass of whiskey onto the table before he smashed it out of a fit of shock and rage.

Fuji nodded primly. "Yes."

"But I don't see why," Konoe fumed. "Why would he want to hurt Momose? Wasn't she his lover?"

"That is a complicated story that only I need to know," Fuji said tartly. "And—if I may say so—it shouldn't concern you, Konoe-san. You know I have reasons to despise Tsuruga Ren, just as you have reasons to despise him. You have an enormous amount of resources and power at your disposal, and I have the brains to come up with and carry out our schemes. With your help—you're the powerful President who owns an entire entertainment agency big enough to rival the LME Agency—we could make Ren pay. Dearly."

Konoe pursed his lips. He didn't like it that she was hiding something from her side. But then again, what she said made sense to some extent.

"I think you are misunderstanding something, Fuji-san," he said coldly. "What makes you think I require your assistance? I can always hire others with brains to concoct something against Tsuruga Ren."

Much to his indignation, Fuji burst out laughing.

"You wouldn't even know where to begin," she replied haughtily. "As for myself, I have already attained some very useful information. My methods are infallible, Konoe-san."

In spite of his smarting pride, Konoe believed her. Fuji Yuki was not a fool, that was for sure.

"And why should we not consult each other?" Fuji wanted to know. "We have the same goals. Two heads are better than one, after all."

He frowned, confused. "Maybe. But I don't understand why you seek my help so badly, Fuji-san. Surely Momose's own President—"

"They're all fools who view Tsuruga Ren through rose-tinted glasses!" Fuji spat suddenly. "But you, Konoe-san, you know now that your daughter is currently sitting in a prison cell because of Tsuruga Ren. Don't you?"

A fresh spurt of fury rose within Konoe, and his hands fisted.

"How do you intend to get back at Tsuruga Ren?" he asked reservedly.

"He hurt the people we care about," Fuji said harshly. "In your case, it's your daughter. In mine, it is Momose. So, don't you think it's only fair that we hurt who _he_ cares about?"

"And who would that be?" Konoe asked eagerly.

Unexpectedly, she reached into the pocket of her pantsuit and retrieved two photographs. Konoe leaned over the study table to take a closer look. He recognised both photos. The first one was of Tsuruga Ren and his date together at the Star Awards. She looked reasonably pretty, Konoe thought, but not overwhelmingly so (she definitely was nowhere as beautiful as his daughter). His date wore a bridal designer gown, and her copper hair was pinned up in a chignon, coupled with a white rose peeking from her wavy locks of hair. The second photo consisted of Juliena Hizuri and another much plainer girl. Konoe had heard about the uproar that had occurred today. For one thing, Juliena had currently arrived in Japan, which baffled plenty of people, and for another, she had dragged a random girl from the streets and forced the girl into her car. Another interesting thing was that the small-time actress—and wife of the famous Hiou Uesugi—Kanae Kotonami had also been accompanying the girl. Of course, Juliena Hizuri's incredible star power far overshadowed Kanae Kotonami's involvement in the news, but there was no denying that something really strange was going on. It couldn't just be a coincidence that the celebrities Kanae Kotonami and Juliena Hizuri were together in the same place, along with that mysterious girl.

"A lot of people don't realise this," Fuji declared triumphantly, "but Ren's date is the girl who met Juliena Hizuri today."

Konoe gaped. "_What?_"

"I've always been good with faces," Fuji said. "True, she looks a lot plainer and almost unrecognisable without any makeup on, but there's no doubt these two girls—" She pointed at both pictures. "—are the same person."

Konoe took a swig of his whiskey. "So you think Ren's date is our target?"

"Ren announced that she was carrying his baby," Fuji went on. "Let's be realistic here. A man as capable and clever as Ren could never be blackmailed into a relationship, no matter what the tabloids say. If he announces his relationship with her at the Star Awards, it's because he wanted to, and nothing else. This means that she is at least of some importance to him."

"And—"

"And," Fuji broke in calmly, "I have her name."

Konoe frowned. "Ren made sure not to announce her name to the press."

"Of course he would try to protect her," Fuji scoffed. "But I can easily discover the truth using my own methods. You see, Juliena and the girl were standing outside a supermarket throughout the whole commotion. Juliena's bodyguard was carrying her groceries, if you recall. After everything blew over, I went to that grocery store and asked the cashier if she knew who the girl all over the news was. The cashier, just like everyone else, didn't recognise the girl in the news with Juliena as the same dolled-up girl that was Ren's date at the Star Awards. However, she told me that the girl had been a regular at the supermarket for the past month, and that they had struck up a rather brief friendship. And according to the cashier, the girl's name is Mogami Kyoko."

Konoe was beside himself in malicious excitement. "We have her name!"

"Exactly." Fuji Yuki smiled, her teeth glinting. It was not a pleasant smile. "And now that we have her name, we can start investigating and making our move against her. Don't you agree, Konoe-san?"

* * *

Kyoko straightened up quickly from where she had been wiping the coffee table in her apartment with a damp kitchen dishcloth, and stiffened as a wave of dizziness swept over her. The girl forced herself to hold still as her giddiness slowly abated, and she sighed.

She shouldn't have stood up so fast. Her pregnancy was making her vertigo worse.

Kyoko went into her kitchen and began washing the dishcloth. Her entire apartment had been an absolute nightmare when she first came in an hour ago. The whole place was covered in a layer of dust, and she shuddered at the mere memory. Kyoko thanked the heavens that she hadn't left food inside the refrigerator, for they would probably be rotting by now. She'd wasted no time in putting on a bright pink apron over her t-shirt and jeans, tying a towel around the lower portion of her face and grabbing a feather duster before proceeding to get rid of the dust shrouding her furniture. Kyoko had just finished cleaning the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen. She'd wiped the granite counter so thoroughly that it was now gleaming. Her next plan of action was to change the bed sheets in her room, then vacuum the entire apartment.

As she washed the dirty dishcloth, her mind idly wandered to the night before.

Strangely enough, the rest of last night hadn't been as awkward as she had dreaded it to be. Now that most of the truth was out, she felt like a great deal of weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was almost exhilarating.

Still, for some reason throughout her dinner afterwards with Ren, they chose to chat about simple topics unrelated to the subject of their relationship. Surprisingly enough for two people who came from very different backgrounds compared to each other, they had a lot to talk about.

As they dined, Ren had casually talked about President Lory of his entertainment agency and told her all the strange antics the man had been up to for the past years, much to the amusement of both of them. After he spoke about the numerous outrageous costumes Lory had donned (Egyptian pharaohs, pirate captains, Chinese Emperors), Kyoko ended up talking about the countries she'd always wanted to visit. She chattered about Egypt, Europe, and Beijing. Ren, who had visited all these countries for his various filming projects, filled her in about his experiences. Yet despite his much more colorful life, Ren seemed to be just as fascinated with her as she with him even after more than a month of dating. He constantly asked her questions about her life, in spite of how drab and boring she felt it was compared to his. He asked about which high school she studied in, if she had been happy in school, what her first job had been, and how she got along with her colleagues.

Needless to say, dinner went well.

That night, they did not make love, which was probably due to Dr. Ruriko's advice. It was just as well, for she was exhausted from a long day. Kyoko had passed out very quickly in Ren's comforting arms once they retired to bed.

Abruptly, the doorbell rang now, and Kyoko jumped as she was brought back to her present reality.

Was it Ren? Surely he couldn't be back for lunch so soon? He had just dropped her off here an hour or so ago. What was even stranger was that he had rung the doorbell. He had the spare key with him, after all. Why would he need to ring the doorbell then?

This was bad. Kyoko had barely found the chance to privately contact Juliena Hizuri, and Ren was already back?

Kyoko dropped the dishcloth, wiped her wet hands on her apron, and untied the towel from her face. She hurried to the door.

Her doe brown eyes largened in shock the moment she opened it.

This wasn't Ren.

A tall man, decked in a well-pressed flannel suit, stood in the doorway. He looked so out of place here that it took her almost a minute before she recognised him.

"You are…" she said slowly.

"What, you don't remember me?" the man probed, grinning.

"Kijima-san?" Kyoko said faintly at last.

This was the well-known actor who had appeared before her back at the daunting Star Awards event. He'd been Itsumi Momose's date. He had scared her with his words about Ren, having bluntly called her lover a hunter and Kyoko his helpless prey. Despite the callous brutality of his statement, Kyoko had had a hunch that he hadn't been lying, and his words had haunted her for a good bit after the Star Awards ended. This was the very man who had first opened her eyes about Ren—letting her realise that her lover wasn't the kind and gentle person the whole country thought him to be. She didn't know why Hidehito Kijima had unveiled to her the truth behind Ren's mask then though. He'd barely known Kyoko. Was Kijima trying to scare her off from Ren? But what for? Did he think that Kyoko wasn't good enough for Ren?

And how the hell he did he find her here? More importantly, _why_ was he here?

Kyoko rubbed her eyes vigorously, half-hoping that the dust must have clouded her vision, but no, she wasn't imagining it. He was really here.

"May I come in?" Kijima queried brightly.

"Um," she forced out numbly. "Sure."

Kyoko took a step back, letting him in. She didn't know what else to do.

"You must be wondering how I found you here," Kijima said, entering the hallway of the apartment and looking around. "I have quite an important message for you, so I won't beat around the bush."

She trailed hesitantly after him. "Yes?"

"I'm here on behalf of Mogami Saena," Kijima stated candidly.

Kyoko froze.

Whatever she had been expecting to hear, this was most definitely not it.

"I—I beg your pardon?" Kyoko stammered disbelievingly. Her voice was hoarse.

Kijima lowered himself onto the couch she had just wiped clean. "Your mother is my attorney." He paused, then continued jovially, "Well, she hasn't represented me in court before, because I've never committed a serious crime. She's more like my legal consultant. She gives pretty sound legal advice whenever something comes up. We've been… close friends for a good while."

Kyoko's throat seemed to have seized up, preventing her from speaking. What were the chances Hidehito Kijima knew her mother? First Juliena (though she knew Saena indirectly), and now Kijima?

She stepped dazedly towards him. She had been out of contact with her mother for years. She'd lost her mother's phone number ages ago, and now… Now Kijima was saying he was friends with Saena, that he was one of Saena's clients. She could contact Saena through him. Of course, Kyoko could always find Saena at her office headquarters, but there was a high chance Saena would refuse to see her. Acquiring Saena's office number was not an easy task either, since she was a big-shot lawyer now and she kept her legal services available for only business tycoons and other highly influential figures in Japan. If one wanted to obtain Saena's business card, they would require important contacts and some crucial networking within their social circle so that someone of a powerful position in the business world could pass the card down to the newest possible client. Naturally, Kyoko could always have asked Ren for help, seeing as he was Japan's biggest star, but she never wanted to admit to him her broken relationship with her mother. What if she got her hands on Saena's card, only for her mother to refuse her calls? How was she to face Ren, then?

She needed to speak to her mother now, though, despite the possibility that Saena might shun her. She needed to ask her mother if what Juliena had disclosed was true—if Saena had really stooped so low as to sleep with a judge to win a case in court.

Before Kyoko knew it, she was standing in front of the couch and gripping an astounded Kijima's shoulder.

She opened her mouth, about to ask him for her mother's number.

"Does… Does my mother ever talk about me?"

Kyoko felt just as shocked as Kijima looked. That was _not_ what she had intended to say.

Oh, God.

"Your mother…" Kijima hesitated. He finally said, after a moment's silence, "Yes."

"What did she say about me?" Kyoko pressed, despite herself. "Does she ever…" She faltered, but couldn't help the hope and the vulnerability surfacing in her voice as she finished her question. "Does she miss me, at least a little?"

Kijima didn't utter anything for a long second, and then his answer came, resigned and apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"What does that mean?" Kyoko's lips trembled. "What did she say about me?"

"Mogami-san—"

"Tell me!"

"There's really nothing to tell."

"If you don't tell me—"

"She said you were nothing but a thorn in her flesh, okay?" Kijima said finally. "I'm really sorry."

Kyoko shrank away like he had struck her.

She hadn't expected this to hurt so much, but it did. She knew her mother saw her as nothing but a major grievance, but her heart had never truly accepted this notion. She shouldn't be surprised or hurt, but she was. Every word Kijima had said seemed to pierce her skin like little knives.

She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that her tears didn't come spilling out.

The next thing she knew, Kijima had his arms around Kyoko as he drew her into a hug. Though she didn't know him at all and was slightly stunned, there was just something very comforting about his embrace. She was in so much pain right now that any comfort she received from anyone was wonderfully soothing. The girl gingerly wrapped her own hands around his waist, pressing her face miserably to his broad shoulder.

"It's okay," Kijima consoled her, still hugging her tightly. He stroked her copper hair. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," Kyoko whispered. "I'm being such a baby."

Feeling a tiny bit more composed, she was about to pull herself away from Kijima's embrace when she suddenly saw something that chilled her blood. Her lover was standing in the open doorway (she'd left the door ajar) of her apartment, staring at them.

The pupils of Ren's exotic dark eyes had slitted and his irises had turned an ominous shade of ebony.

Her heart flew straight into her mouth.

The cold fury in his beautifully sculpted face was undeniable.

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N:** My muse is entirely at fault for the late update. It would not cooperate at all when I wanted to write this chapter. However, I really am thankful for the amazing reviews my readers have posted, for you reviewers are my primary source of motivation. I genuinely apologize for the long wait, and I will try my best to update both FotPB and SM in a timely fashion after this. Both fics are equally important to me, so thank you for supporting them!


	16. Chapter 16

_:Chapter 16:_

There was an awful silence, and Kijima stiffened too when he turned his head and noticed Ren standing at the doorway, carrying his satchel. Kyoko, feeling stricken by fear at the visible rage brewing in Ren's dark obsidian eyes, practically ripped herself away from Kijima's embrace, nearly tumbling over her feet as she did so.

Why, just why, did Ren look so terrifyingly angry, as if he had just caught her committing a horrid crime? It was only a hug! Compared to what Kyoko had seen him do with Momose back at the Blue Princess Hotel (albeit the actress had initiated the kiss, not Ren), this was nothing! Hugs were platonic; kisses were most decidedly not. She was sure Kijima didn't even think of her in that way; he was merely being nice and trying to console her—she'd been on the verge of tears, after all, about her mother. Besides, wasn't Ren friends with Kijima? Didn't he trust his friend not to make any moves on Kyoko? Still, the more she thought about it, the less certain she felt of their camaraderie. Kijima and Ren might have exchanged cordial and amicable greetings back at the Star Awards, but she was foolish to automatically think it might mean a genuine friendship between them. Social networking was a big part of show business, and Kijima and Ren were both veterans of that world. Not to mention if Kijima was really Ren's friend, he wouldn't have tried to warn Kyoko about Ren behind Ren's back. Why, it seemed almost as if he had been trying to scare Kyoko away from Ren at the Star Awards; even if what he said—Ren being a 'predator' and Kyoko his 'prey'—had been true, his intentions seemed rather negative towards Ren.

"Tsuruga-san!" Kijima swung around and beamed blithely at the other man. He was either choosing to ignore the cold fury in Ren's countenance, or simply didn't notice it. Somehow, Kyoko doubted it to be the latter. "I must say, I wasn't expecting to see you. Dear me, this is a little awkward, isn't it?"

There was a short pause, and Kyoko's pulse jumped nervously in her throat as she looked in alarm at Ren. The rage in his exotic features remained, and for a frightening moment he said nothing at all.

But then the actor seemed to come to an internal decision of some sort, and very slowly—so slowly that Kyoko felt goosebumps erupt on her skin—his lips curved upwards into a mocking smile.

"Kijima-san," Ren murmured. Dressed in a black coat over an elegant white buttoned shirt and a pair of tight dress pants, he looked as infuriatingly attractive as ever. "How surprising to see you here as well."

"Oh, well, it's a long story," Kijima laughed breezily. He gestured at Kyoko. "Shocking as it must be, I'm actually here to see your baby mama."

Kyoko's cheeks immediately turned scarlet at what he called her.

Ren stepped into the apartment, his onyx eyes gleaming. "Oh?" he inquired coolly. "How very curious. And what business would you have with her, Kijima-san?"

As he spoke, the male had gracefully glided over to where Kyoko stood, and the girl barely suppressed a squeak when her lover slid his arm soundlessly around her delicate shoulders, drawing her petite form closer to him. A bashful Kyoko could feel the toned, hard musculature of Ren's much taller and bigger body pressed against hers, and her complexion reddened further at the sensation. She would be lying if she said she did not enjoy it.

Kijima, not looking fazed by Ren's clearly territorial behavior, answered him flippantly.

"I'm here on behalf of Kyoko's mother," he announced. "You might not believe this, but Mogami Saena and I happen to be good friends. Talk about a small world, eh?"

Ren's face was unreadable despite the surprise he must be feeling that Kijima knew Kyoko's name, let alone who her mother was. After all, Ren had concealed Kyoko's identity from the public in order to protect her from his obsessive, zealous fans, and that included keeping her name hidden from his fellow celebrities in the entertainment industry.

Kyoko's belly twisted. She couldn't help but experience a spurt of unease and discomfort the moment Kijima mentioned Saena to Ren. Kyoko had rarely talked about her mother with Ren before, and he always seemed to understand her reluctance to breach the subject and had thus never pushed her about it. Therefore, to have Kijima bring up Saena so nonchalantly and so candidly in front of Ren made her feel extremely unsettled. She also felt oddly exposed, which was irrational of her since she knew Ren was already long aware of who her mother was. He'd seen her looking through newspapers before with her mother's name plastered all over the bold, black headlines, despite her attempts to browse through the papers discreetly without his notice. Kyoko had never explicitly told him that she was the daughter of Mogami Saena, but it was easy enough to infer that from the similar surname and the physical resemblance between both women. But Ren had remained as tactful as ever; he hardly spoke to her about Saena, having noted that Kyoko must never have talked about her mother for a reason. This was why Kyoko hated that Kijima had brought up the topic of Saena to Ren. It marked the first, proper time her lover would ever discuss Saena in front of her, and in a setting where she had almost no control of the conversation.

"I assume that Mogami Saena told you Kyoko's residential address?" Ren remarked dryly.

Kijima grinned. "She did. I hope you don't mind."

"And what does Mogami Saena want, Kijima-san?" Ren uttered quietly.

Kijima's grin broadened. "About that," he said. "No offense to you, Tsuruga-san, but I'd rather pass on Saena's message to Kyoko when she's alone with me."

Kyoko's breath hitched. Was Kijima crazy? Ren was already angered enough by the embrace she'd shared with Kijima earlier, and now the latter was spouting this bullshit? Did Kijima not understand how territorial and possessive Ren could get?

Was he trying to piss Ren off even more?

"Look, Kijima-san," Kyoko piped up. She didn't dare to look at Ren for fear of what his reaction might be. "Can't you just tell me my mother's message now? Why do I have to be alone to hear it?"

"Your mum's message is pretty personal," Kijima replied readily. "Won't you want some privacy?"

Kyoko hesitated.

He did have a point. The reason she had not spoken to Ren about her mother all this while was because she did not want to reveal to him how unloving and cruel her mother was towards her. Such unfeelingness and lack of affection from a mother was considered very unnatural in society; as far as Kyoko knew, most mothers loved their children fiercely. In fact, Kyoko's baby wasn't even born yet and her maternal instincts to love it and protect it were already stirring within her. Juliena was another prime example of a mother who was very protective towards her son. She'd viewed Kyoko as a threat to her baby cub and had attempted to eliminate the threat as quickly as possible. For someone like Ren who was dearly loved by his mother, Kyoko wasn't sure how to reveal to him just how much her own mother hated her. He might not comprehend such an anomaly, and the last thing she wanted was to feel judged, or worse—pitied. There was a high chance that Saena's message, whatever it was, might implicitly convey Saena's contempt towards Kyoko, and to have Ren right next to her listening to it… Well, she felt terribly vulnerable and discomfited.

Kyoko inhaled, then exhaled slowly.

But then again, she and Ren had gone a long way from where they had once stood in the past. Ren had confided in her his secret about his mother's identity so as to build a new level of trust between them, and she appreciated his effort immensely. Now, perhaps, it was her time to reciprocate regarding her own mother. She was going to feel very vulnerable and exposed, but this was what trust was about, after all. It was about having faith in your partner and surrendering a part of yourself to them, and not worrying about their reaction.

"Just tell me her message," Kyoko told Kijima. "I don't need privacy when it comes to Ren."

She felt her lover turned his head silently to regard her, but she shakily forced herself to keep her gaze on Kijima.

Kijima looked a little taken aback. He clearly wasn't expecting her to say what she did. For a couple of seconds, he stared at her, looking too stunned to speak.

"Well," he said finally. "It looks like the both of you are closer than I thought, huh?"

"Please, tell me the message," Kyoko said beseechingly. She was really curious now as to what her mother wanted from her. They hadn't spoken in years, and suddenly, out of the blue, her mother apparently had a message for her. She didn't think Kijima was lying. How else would he have known Kyoko's name, as well as her mother's? Something must have happened with Saena to want to contact her daughter after so long. Could it be anything to do with Juliena Hizuri? It seemed too coincidental with Juliena's threat yesterday.

Instead of answering Kyoko, Kijima pulled out something from the front pocket of his flannel suit, and handed it to her.

It was a card. A business card, to be exact. Kyoko could see Kijima's full name emblazoned in a large, bold font on the card, as well as his phone number under it.

"Maybe this isn't the case for you, but I'd prefer to talk to you alone about your mother," Kijima informed her genially. "I get that now's not a good time, so give me a call if you want to receive your mother's message. Maybe we can arrange a meeting just between the both of us, eh?"

Before Kyoko could utter a word in reply, the business card was plucked straight from her hand. She could only watch, dumbfounded, as Ren neatly tore the card in half and carelessly dropped the tattered pieces onto the linoleum floor as if the paper was nothing but trash to him.

"Tsuruga-san." For the first time since Ren had showed up, Kijima looked annoyed. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ren's sensuous mouth was tipped upwards in an unnervingly cruel smile. There was something very malicious in the way he looked at Kijima, and an intimidated Kyoko could feel her skin prickling in apprehension despite the fact that none of her lover's antagonism was directed towards her. It was times like these that Kyoko was relieved she was not Ren's enemy; she knew by now that he possessed a very savage, cold-blooded side to him when confronting his adversaries, as seen by how he had mercilessly shattered Shotaro's nose and ribcage. The fact that he was emanating a similarly eerie vibe towards Kijima told Kyoko that the pair were definitely not the good friends she'd initially assumed they were.

"I should hope you won't regret this, Tsuruga-san," Kijima pointed out acerbically. "You only have yourself to blame if your pretty little girlfriend never gets to communicate with her mother—"

"If Mogami Saena has something to say to Kyoko, she should come and pass on the message herself instead of hiding behind someone else and asking him to convey it for her," Ren cut him off calmly. "I do not condone cowardice, Kijima-san."

Kyoko swallowed. She couldn't deny that Ren did make a very good point.

Kijima folded his arms across his chest. "What makes you think Saena is scared of Kyoko?"

"Either that, or you offered to come here on her behalf," Ren drawled silkily. "I wonder what your motives are, Kijima-san?"

Kijima stared daggers at the other male, his teeth gritted. His fists were clenched and his body had turned as rigid as stone. Kyoko, who was slightly overwhelmed by the threatening atmosphere, clung to Ren's side meekly for comfort. Her lover's muscled arm had slid down from her shoulders and was now wrapped around her slender waist, pressing her diminutive figure protectively against him. However, his gaze remained fastened on Kijima's aggrieved profile, which was a sharp contrast against Ren's sardonic one.

Kijima was the first to back down.

"Well, I can see that my presence isn't welcome here," he deadpanned. "I had thought that Kyoko-chan would be more receptive since I'm here on behalf of her mother, but I guess that's not the case."

Kyoko flinched.

"You were the one who refused to relay her mother's message in front of me, Kijima-san," Ren commented amusedly.

"So I did," Kijima said shortly.

Kyoko forced out, "Kijima-san—"

"No, save it," he interrupted curtly. "I don't need to hear whatever it is you want to say."

He stalked over to the door of the apartment, his hands tucked moodily in his pockets. Turning his head, he looked squarely at Kyoko.

"Mark my words," he said resolutely. "Your precious Tsuruga-san isn't all you think he is. It's only a matter of time before you truly find out how fucked up he is, and trust me, I'll be around to watch you two fall apart."

And with that being said, he flung open the door, and left, slamming it behind him.

* * *

Kyoko stared at the closed door, her hazel eyes wide with astonishment. She stood rooted to the spot, feeling too shell-shocked by Kijima's abrupt farewell to react. Kyoko couldn't believe how audacious Kijima had been to make such a nasty declaration right in front of Ren. The usual cordiality in their interactions was completely gone. Any uncertainties she had about their friendship were instantly wiped away; she was positive now that Kijima and Ren had never been friends throughout the whole time she'd known them (at least not since their meeting at the Star Awards, which was where Kyoko had first met Kijima), but had merely been acquaintances who were playing a game of companionable and affable charades with each other when in reality, both of them were extremely guarded and wary of the other. She didn't know what Ren had done to make Kijima feel so adversely towards him, though judging by Ren's malevolent, ruthless manner towards Kijima earlier, she could hazard a guess. But Kyoko didn't believe that Ren would treat someone so callously for no reason at all. Whatever animosity they shared had to originate from something deeper between them.

And then Ren's regal dark head suddenly bent to hers, distracting Kyoko from her rumination, and she gasped as he crushed his perfect lips against hers in a heated, possessive, open-mouthed kiss.

Her entire body trembled from the intensity of the kiss; his lips explored her soft, pink mouth relentlessly, and she noticed that this was one of the few times where there was nothing gentle about his ministrations. He pulled her bottom lip into his sensual mouth and suckled on it expertly, and she shivered in his arms at the arousal simmering like boiling hot flames within her lower body. Kyoko moaned as his tongue then brazenly penetrated the cavern of her mouth, and twined itself around hers. He thrusted his skilled, flexible tongue inside of her in a blatant imitation of the act of sexual intercourse, and Kyoko gasped wildly against his lips at the unexpectedly powerful sensation he'd elicited within her, her slim hips bucking against his.

Finally, Ren ended the kiss, and she slumped in his embrace, her heart pounding and her legs feeling like they were made of jelly. She would have fallen to the floor had it not been for his strong arms, which were coiled around her tiny waist, holding her up. The girl rested her copper head against the rock-hard surface of his chest, panting heavily as Ren tenderly lowered his lips to her disheveled hair.

"Why did you…. What was that for?" Kyoko asked breathlessly.

"Do I need a reason to kiss you?" Ren said arrogantly. He cupped her chin with his long, dexterous fingers and lifted her face directly towards his so that he could study her dazed eyes, flushed semblance and swollen, rosy lips with a masculine satisfaction. "After all, you belong to me, darling, and you would do well to remember that."

Kyoko's face blazed a deeper shade of color. Her pulse had turned even more erratic at his blunt, matter-of-fact statement, and she sucked in an uneven breath.

"Is… Is this about Kijima?" she questioned timidly. "I don't care about what he said. You shouldn't pay any attention to it—"

"Why was he touching you?" Ren's lush baritone voice was flat.

Kyoko stilled. So this was about that stupid hug she'd shared with Kijima, after all.

"He… He was talking about my mother, and I got upset," she admitted. "He was comforting me. It's a long story."

Ren's midnight eyes were hooded and unrevealing at her confession, and an increasingly rattled Kyoko had no idea what he was thinking. Instead of responding verbally to her, she was surprised when he reached for the drawstrings of her apron, untied the knot, and gently removed the bright pink fabric from her person. After placing the apron to one side, he guided her to the couch and made sure she was comfortably seated.

Once she had settled down, her companion put his satchel bag onto the coffee table—it had been hanging from his broad shoulder the whole time—and she watched dumbly as he deftly opened the satchel and retrieved a brown paper package from inside. The delicious scent of what smelled like chicken sandwiches hit her olfactory senses, and almost at once her mouth watered. She'd completely forgotten about lunch, and she had no idea how famished she was until Ren had taken out the sandwiches. He must have purchased them on his way here. The woman practically drooled as her lover unwrapped the paper packaging with a fluid, swift proficiency before handing the sandwich to her. She bit into it greedily, savoring the taste of freshly baked bread, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, mustard, and juicy chicken.

Kyoko was about halfway into devouring the sandwich when she noticed that Ren, who had seated himself next to her on the sofa, was watching her eat in a mixture of fondness and fascination.

"What?" Kyoko cleared her throat, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She touched her face, praying there weren't traces of sauce or other bits of the sandwich on her skin. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Ren chuckled. "I have never seen anyone attack food with that kind of vigor. It's adorable."

Kyoko's cheeks flamed with embarrassment. He was basically calling her a glutton!

Desperate to change the subject, she blurted out recklessly, "You shouldn't have torn up Kijima's card in front of him, you know. That was really rude."

His smile slowly disappeared, and a glint entered his exotic obsidian eyes. "Oh?"

"And what if I really never receive my mother's message?" Kyoko pressed on. "I mean, it could be something important."

"Why don't you contact her yourself, then?" Ren purred.

He gracefully reached into the pocket of his expensive overcoat, and took out a card—another business card, as a matter of fact.

Kyoko's mouth went dry when she saw the words that the flashy, prominent letters formed on the card.

Mogami Saena.

Without thinking she reached out her hand to grab the card, but Ren promptly withdrew it from her reach.

"Not so fast, darling," he drawled.

"How did you get Saena's business card?" Kyoko gaped. "And… Why—?"

Ren was holding up the business card with his long, adroit fingers and examining it thoughtfully.

"I spoke to Julie yesterday," he said, giving Kyoko a shrewd side-glance. "From what I understand, she said something to you about Mogami Saena, did she not?"

Kyoko faltered, her hands tightening around her half-eaten sandwich. She hadn't expected Ren to have spoken with his mother, but now that she thought about it, it made sense. He had known that Juliena had physically forced Kyoko to take a car ride with her, and it was hence natural that he would want to speak to his mother about the situation. Her throat tightened. Had Juliena told Ren about how angry and aggravated Kyoko had been to her? Oh, God. In Kyoko's defence, though, she had been forcefully kidnapped by someone she didn't even know, so her belligerent reaction was to be expected. However, Kyoko still regretted being so hostile to her lover's mother. She'd been so blinded by jealousy, thinking that Juliena was one of Ren's former lovers. Now all Kyoko could do was cringe at the assumption she'd made. Forget about making a good impression in front of her in-laws—not that she and Ren were marrying, but still. Kyoko's poor relationship with Juliena seemed painfully beyond repair.

"Just what did Juliena tell you?" Kyoko asked Ren carefully.

"She said enough for me to know that your mother is a cause for concern at the moment," Ren responded wryly. "I believe you told me the same thing last night. Or am I wrong?"

Kyoko nearly choked on her sandwich. Her memory flitted back to the erotic night before, where she had been lying helplessly in their bed, his talented fingers roaming underneath her scantily-clad lingerie, where the area between her unclothed thighs was. He had practically seduced the answer out of her regarding Juliena's threat last night.

Her lover smiled knowingly at the sight of her crimson features, and slinked his arm around her waist once more, tugging her closely to him on the sofa so that she was resting against his sleekly muscled physique. He dipped his head from behind her and Kyoko emitted a mortifyingly high-pitched gasp of pleasure as he kissed her bare neck.

"Tell me exactly what else Julie told you," Ren murmured huskily into her creamy skin. "Or we can always have a repeat performance of last night, and you'll tell me either way."

Kyoko's breathing sped up as liquid lust stirred in her lower belly, and she let out another loud, flustered squeak, almost dropping her sandwich.

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you!" Kyoko exclaimed hastily, her skin burning and her pulse thundering in her veins. A naughty part of her longed for him to carry out what he was suggesting, but another part of her was dreadfully abashed and disconcerted that she literally had no control over herself whenever he so much as put his mouth—or fingers—on her.

Kyoko figured by now that Ren deserved to know the truth. Besides, even if she refused to tell him, she didn't doubt that he possessed the ability to seduce the answers right out of her if he so wanted to. Yesterday had been a prime example. All he had to do was pleasure her with those clever hands, leave her on the edge of a climax and deny her what she desperately desired, and she would become putty in his grasp. She wouldn't have the willpower to stop him from initiating the session either; there was something very sexually hypnotic about Ren whenever he touched her, and it was likely she would encourage him to continue with his ministrations once he started them. Regardless of his methods, Kyoko wanted to tell him about Juliena's threat anyway. She was so tired of handling her burdens herself and hiding secrets from him. If Juliena was his mother, surely he could come up with a way to stop Juliena from ruining Saena's career, right?

The most important part of all, of course, was that Kyoko wanted to stay with Ren. Juliena was trying to tear them apart, and Kyoko had originally resigned herself to complying with the other woman's demands. But after Kyoko and Ren had decided to make an effort since last night to try to earn the other's trust, Kyoko wanted to give it a shot and stay with him. She wanted it so badly that it consumed her entire being. If Juliena was an obstacle to their relationship, then Kyoko didn't want to face her alone.

She didn't _need_ to face her alone.

"About my mother," Kyoko began hesitantly. She felt nervous and antsy, which was hardly shocking considering that she was about to disclose to Ren something extremely personal and sensitive to her. "She and I, we've always had a… a rocky relationship. We're not normal. I mean, compared to you and Juliena… Well, Juliena is obviously so protective of you. Let's just say that protecting me is not really at the top of my mother's agenda."

Ren said nothing. His arm was still tucked around her waist, and she was both relieved and perturbed that she couldn't see his face from where her back was leaning on him.

Kyoko took a deep breath, then went on. "She's a lawyer. A damned good one. She's won at almost all of her cases, which is why she's known as—"

"'The Queen of Court'," Ren finished for her. "I know. I have read up about her. When I found out vaguely about her involvement with Juliena last night, I called Yashiro-san and asked him to do a little networking on my behalf so that I could obtain her business card. She's an elusive one, this Queen of Court."

Of course. It wasn't easy to gain access to Saena's business card, since she only represented the wealthiest and most influential clients in court. But Ren was the biggest star in Japan, which meant he was the _epitome_ of the rich and the famous, and it was therefore child's play for him to use his contacts to get his hands on her business card.

"So that's why you said you needed to meet Yashiro-san this morning," Kyoko said as comprehension dawned. "It wasn't just to submit paperwork, was it? You went to take my mother's card from him!"

"That is correct." Ren laughed, a glorious rich rumble at the back of his throat, and she shivered as she felt the deep reverberations running up his chest. "Now. Go on with your story, please."

Kyoko decided she would yell at him later for planning this since last night and yet choosing to keep mum about it.

"Did you hear about my mother's recent case?" she wanted to know. "She won."

"Hmm. Yes."

"Well, according to your mother," Kyoko said miserably, "Saena slept with the judge of that case to win."

She swiveled her head around this time to take in Ren's beautiful face, but his expression was as cryptic as ever.

Was he appalled with Kyoko right now for being the daughter of a corrupt attorney? Was he starting to regret ever associating himself with Kyoko, let alone having dated her? No wonder Juliena Hizuri loathed Kyoko so much, and this had nothing to do with Kyoko's snappy attitude towards Juliena back in the latter's car (though that had made everything worse); in Juliena's perspective, Kyoko was nothing more than the child of a filthy, corrupt individual. Everyone knew there was a high chance that a parent's debauchery could rub off on their children, not to mention the same blood ran in their veins. How could someone as tainted as Kyoko be good enough for her perfect son? And now that she'd told Ren the truth, he might think the same way as his mother. It was one thing for Juliena to hate her and reject her, but if Ren did the same thing, Kyoko would be utterly destroyed.

"The judge's wife is an actress who is a friend of your mother's," Kyoko elaborated, feeling increasingly woeful as she spoke. "The actress hired a private detective to follow the judge—her husband—and the private detective took photographs of my mother and the judge at a love hotel."

"Allow me to guess." Ren's tone was glacial. "My mother threatened to release these photographs to the public if you continued staying by my side, which would subsequently destroy your mother's career."

Kyoko nodded, staring desolately at the remains of her sandwich. She didn't feel hungry anymore.

"Oh, darling." Kyoko stilled when he kissed the top of her head. "You should have told me sooner."

"I know," she sighed. "I was just… I don't know, scared that if I tell you, Juliena would find out somehow and then she'd make her friend release the photos and then it'll be all over—"

"Listen to me, Kyoko." Ren touched her thin shoulders and gently turned her around on the couch to face him. "Do you still remember what your mother's latest case was about?"

Kyoko bit her lip. "I think so."

"Then you know that she was representing a powerful business mogul who had allegedly raped and murdered many women in his employment. Because she was his lawyer and she won his case, this man has gotten off scot-free for his crimes. Do you think this is fair for the women he raped and killed, and for the families of these women?"

Kyoko paled.

Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? She had been so caught up with fretting about the possible destruction of her mother's career that she hadn't spared a thought for the details of the lawsuit.

Kyoko was horrified with her mother. She knew Saena could be unfeeling, but this was simply too much. How could Saena be so heartless and cold-blooded that she was willing to ruin all these women's lives just so she could win the case and maintain her title as the Queen of Court? The female victims had been raped and murdered, and now justice would never be served for them! How were their families supposed to find closure, then, when the rapist slash murderer that had assaulted their daughters or wives was still at large? And what if he was still going after other innocent women? No wonder Juliena hated Kyoko so much for the terrible things her mother had done—Kyoko almost hated Saena now, too. And it wasn't just the women who had been raped and killed that were the victims. There was the judge's wife, too, who had lost her husband to a homewrecker that was Mogami Saena. What if the judge and the actress had kids? How was their mother supposed to explain to them that their father had slept with another woman? To make matters worse, Saena hadn't even slept with the judge because she loved him. She'd done it to win a case that should never have been won.

"Ren," Kyoko whispered, tears welling up in her ochre eyes. She slammed her sandwich, still enveloped in the paper packaging, onto the coffee table with such force that she squished the bread. "How could I not have thought about all those other people?"

He took her in his warm embrace, stroking her disheveled copper hair as he did so. "Don't blame yourself too much, darling. You were worried for your mother's welfare because you love her very much. It's natural she would come first in your mind." His onyx eyes gleamed. "The same way you come first to mine before all else."

Kyoko stared up at him in wonder, feeling a surge of euphoria rise within her chest. This was the closest thing to a love confession that she had ever gotten from him, and she found herself praying that she hadn't imagined his words.

Somehow, what he said gave her the courage to do what was right.

"I've decided," she choked out at last. "I think the truth needs to be exposed. Even… Even if it costs my mother her career."

Even if her mother should blame and hate Kyoko forever.

Ren gazed at her with an almost tender look in his smoky dark eyes, then slowly kissed her forehead.

"You are twice the woman your mother would ever be, Mogami Kyoko," he said softly. Extending Saena's business card towards her, he added languidly, "Go ahead, darling. Call her to ask for her message. Unless you would like me to do that for you?"

From his voice, Kyoko knew that he was serious. He would call Saena in Kyoko's stead if she wanted him to, and he would find no problem with it whatsoever.

But this was her mother, not Ren's. Kyoko strongly believed that she had to communicate with Saena herself. If not, she would be no better than her mother, who had been so cowardly that she'd used Kijima as a messenger instead of choosing to face Kyoko herself.

Kyoko swallowed hard. Nevertheless, she ignored the temptation to stall for time. Fishing her smartphone out from the pocket of her jeans, she dialed the private number that was listed on Saena's business card, and waited, her skin breaking out in a cold sweat. Ren, evidently respecting her decision, was holding her free hand, his calloused thumb tracing her small knuckles soothingly.

Would Saena pick up a call from a caller ID that she did not recognise? Kyoko was positive that her bigwig clients normally contacted her through their representatives, and even then their representatives contacted Saena's secretary first, not Saena herself.

She waited about five rings before a dispassionate, efficient-sounding female voice spoke.

"Mogami Saena speaking."

Kyoko's heart stopped.

She was hearing her mother's voice for the first time in God only knows how many years. Saena's voice had not changed at all; she still sounded like she was utterly incapable of feeling any human emotion. It was the exact same voice that had told Kyoko so long ago as a little child that her academic grades weren't good enough, that her performance in school and at home was poor, that _she_ just wasn't good enough. This voice carried so much power over Kyoko's heart—if the slightest trace of disapprobation was audible in said voice, Kyoko would be devastated. Even though she was now an adult and no longer lived under her mother's roof (which had been a brief time in her childhood anyway), old habits died hard, and Kyoko instinctively found herself feeling like a little girl again, wanting to gratify that voice and to earn her mother's praise. She shoved the illogical urge away—she hadn't called Saena to please her mother. She had called Saena to ask what Saena wanted from her. That was it.

"It's me, Mother," Kyoko said, hoping fervently that a tremor didn't surface in her voice. "It's Kyoko."

There was a tense silence.

And then Mogami Saena spoke again.

"Where are you right now?" she asked blandly. There was no greeting, no pleasantries exchanged—her mother cut right to the chase.

"I'm at home," Kyoko stammered. "In my apartment."

"I will be there in twenty minutes."

Kyoko opened her mouth again, but the line had gone dead. She stared down at her smartphone disbelievingly. It was just like Saena to make a decision without properly consulting Kyoko about it. She had not even bothered to ask if Kyoko would be free for the next twenty minutes. As far as Saena was concerned, once her decision was made, Kyoko would have to comply with it. It didn't matter if it inconvenienced Kyoko. Kyoko would have to work around her schedule to meet Saena's demands.

"Kyoko?" Ren's rich, velvety voice was inquisitive, and it brought her right out of her reverie.

"My mother's coming here in twenty minutes," Kyoko said numbly. Then she leapt up from the couch, dropped her phone on its plush surface, and clutched the sides of her disarrayed copper hair. "Oh, my God! My mother is coming in twenty minutes, Ren!"

She started pacing up and down the living room, and then stuffed her miniature fist into her mouth in a fit of anxiety. She felt edgy and restless, not to mention scared out of her mind. Talking to her mother over the phone was one thing, but seeing her face-to-face? Kyoko had no idea how she was going to cope with that. She clamped her teeth over her bony knuckles, trying to gather her frazzled nerves and prevent herself from falling prey to a panic attack.

"Come here."

Kyoko froze. In the midst of the agitated chaos that was her mental state, Ren's deep, unruffled command sliced through her bubbling hysteria like a blade.

She did as she was told, making her way clumsily back to where he was still tranquilly seated on the sofa.

"I'm terrified, Ren," Kyoko confessed faintly. "I haven't seen my mother in years, and now she's coming here to see me in twenty minutes. I'm not ready for this! I'm scared as hell, and I'm so stressed you can't even—"

She was unceremoniously cut short when Ren's slender fingers boldly unzipped the fly of her jeans in a single fluid motion.

"Wha—what are you doing?" Kyoko gasped out. She had not been expecting this turn of events.

"Relieving your stress," he said simply, as if it was obvious.

And then he peeled the denim away from her hips, and his nimble fingertips went to the waistline of her silk panties, his touch hot against her skin.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, a spent Kyoko lay limply in Ren's arms on the sofa, her limbs weak and her body—especially her nether region—buzzing blissfully from the effects of the fierce orgasms that she'd had. Her anxieties had vanished; in fact, her mind was now ecstatically blank, wiped clean of all her troubles.

Just earlier her lover had gotten rid of her jeans with a quick efficiency and pulled down her flimsy underwear before positioning his mouth right at the naked junction between her legs, making her cry out in rapture. He hadn't hesitated for even a second; his heated tongue lapped vigorously against the rapidly dampening folds of her womanhood as if she was the most delicious thing he'd ever sampled, his experienced fingers effortlessly locating her clitoris and rubbing against it unapologetically. It didn't make things easier that Kyoko was standing on her feet, her jeans and her panties discarded in a pile on the floor, with Ren's head bent between her naked thighs, one of his dexterous hands gripping the side of her narrow waist to secure her. When his fingers had seized her throbbing clitoris and skillfully applied a deliberate amount of burning friction to it, she had immediately climaxed with a choked exclamation, and consequently her already quivering legs had given way. Ren had protectively scooped Kyoko up in his arms before she fell, and had then gently placed her slim body down onto the sofa.

Despite her mind-shattering orgasm, he had not been done with her yet. She'd barely recovered from her release when he had lowered his head to the dripping petals of her entrance and serviced her again, his sharp teeth catching the sensitized, blood-filled bud peeking through her wet, pink walls and suckling it unrelentingly between his lips. Caught in a renewed haze of unbearable lust, Kyoko had unconsciously grabbed the raven glossy locks of Ren's hair, tugging him closer so that she could grind her pelvis feverishly against his wickedly upturned mouth. With his mouth preoccupied by the soaked, slippery folds of her nectar, his deft hands had skimmed across her smooth flesh underneath the hem of her t-shirt, and had pushed her cotton bra upwards so that they fell back from her small, perky breasts and onto her clavicles. Kyoko had wailed out in pleasure as his large hands had cupped each of the swollen mounds of her breasts beneath her shirt, his calloused thumbs flicking her sensitive nipples.

The combined sensation of his talented fingers applying a sinful pressure to her nipples and his white teeth playfully scraping against her clitoris shoved her over the edge; Kyoko had arched her back on the sofa—his palms continued massaging each of her breasts in a teasing, circular motion—and hoarsely screamed her release, the dewy petals of her core convulsing and spasming against his mouth. The tension—like a coil spring—that had been suffocating her since the start of today snapped apart in her belly and escaped her body through the release of her essence into his inviting lips. He'd sucked harder on her clitoris throughout her intense orgasm, enhancing her euphoria and catapulting her from a second climax straight into a third. Her vision faded to a surreal black, and she was only mildly aware that he was licking her clean.

After that, an exhausted but sated Kyoko could only lie slumped on the sofa as a half-smiling Ren straightened her bra and then covered her half-naked body with his coat, which fell past her knees since it was extremely lengthy on her far more petite stature. He'd folded and kept her abandoned jeans into his satchel, and helped her put her panties back on. She had simply lay there in a pool of serenity, watching him sleepily as he lifted her thighs up gently from the sofa and slid her underwear back over her shapely legs and around her slender hips. From where she lay she could see the tented outline of Ren's impressive erection straining through his dress pants (his reaction to their session earlier), and she wanted him inside her so badly that she ached all over again.

He must had read Kyoko's desires on her face, for he said roughly, "Not now, darling. Not until Ruriko says you are ready."

She pouted, but knew there was no changing Ren's mind. Still, it was probably for the better, since—God forbid—her mother might arrive any time now.

Ren had seated himself gracefully on the couch and gathered her in his arms.

"How are your stress levels now, darling?" Ren inquired, the corner of his sculpted lips quirking mischievously.

Kyoko blushed furiously, her cheeks suffused with a hue of red. "Better."

He chuckled. "That's good to hear."

She traced contented circles on Ren's broad shoulder, then raised her head and lovingly kissed his jaw. "Thank you," she said shyly, her complexion still a crimson shade.

"You are more than welcome," he responded lazily, his eyes devilishly bright.

"I really don't deserve you," Kyoko sighed out, overcome by what he had done for her. "Yet I still want to be with you so much that it hurts."

"No one deserves anyone, Kyoko," Ren said levelly. "We are never entitled to anything. If we want something, we fight for it. That is all there is to it."

Kyoko's hazel eyes widened. "I need to fight harder for you, don't I?" she asked earnestly.

Ren curled a strand of her bronze hair around his spidery, long fingers.

"You don't have to fight for me since I am already yours, love," he murmured gently.

"Really?" she whispered.

He smiled tenderly at her. "Really."

She blinked, trying to hold back delighted tears. Quietly, she trailed kisses down his elegant jawline, and his possessive arms brought her body closer to him.

It was then when the doorbell rang, a sharp, shrill discord that broke through her joy.

Kyoko tensed up immediately as the significance behind the noise hit her. Her delirious high from her intimate moment with Ren started to fade, only to be replaced by the familiar pins and needles swarming her skin.

The following seconds were met with a flurry of movements. Kyoko hurriedly rolled back the lengthy sleeves of Ren's oversized coat over her forearms so that she could free her slim hands through them, while Ren tied the belt of his coat precisely around her svelte waist so that the ebony fabric enclosed her bare legs.

Their hands entwined, Kyoko then followed Ren down the hallway and towards the closed door of her apartment, her heart hammering within her ribs and her belly constricting uncomfortably.

The fear and the anxiety were returning, and she hated it.

Ren glanced sedately at her, his magnetic obsidian eyes seeking her apprehensive brown ones for a brief heartbeat, and he opened the door.

A tall woman—dressed in a smart, immaculate black blazer, creamy buttoned blouse, and an equally jet-black pencil skirt—stood at the doorway, holding a briefcase. Her long legs were clad in dark silk stockings and she wore a pair of raven high-heeled pumps. There was something undeniably gothic and beautiful about her; it was perhaps in the way she carried herself, with the icy, dignified air of a queen. As if to match her haughty personality, her facial features were the refined, matured version of Kyoko's more rounded, innocent one. The older woman's lips were painted a stark, bloody scarlet, and her hazel eyes were narrowed, cynical, and cold as she regarded Ren.

Kyoko's muscles turned rigid as those cold, lofty eyes glanced towards her. She could read the disapproval in Saena's demeanor, and a razor-sharp dagger seemed to penetrate her chest in response. Almost at once she felt like the little girl in her past again, facing a reproving, patronizing mother whose disapprobation never failed to crush Kyoko's buoyant spirits. Her composure was falling apart so quickly that it floored even herself.

"Mother," she croaked.

Saena's brow arched. "Don't call me that, please," she stated frostily. "You have no mother, and I have no children. Make sure you remember that from now on."

A horrible hush greeted her words.

Kyoko's head jerked as if Saena had physically struck her. Agony and hurt welled up within her, and she took a step back, barely noticing the grim concern in Ren's midnight eyes as his long-fingered hand tightened around her diminutive one. The lack of oxygen in her shrinking lungs made it near impossible for her to think straight.

Saena might have always been harsh and severe, but she had never said anything this staggering before. Making such a statement now—and in such an unfazed, emotionless tone, too—brought her mother's cruelty to a whole other level.

Kyoko was a fool to think she was ready for this.

Letting out a wounded gasp, Kyoko spun on her heel, ripped her hand blindly out of Ren's, and ran back into her apartment, not wanting to face her mother any longer. Her ochre eyes were stinging, and grief-stricken tears spilled under her lashes.

She wasn't ready, and probably never would be.

* * *

_:tbc:_

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you very much to those of you who suggested which fic—'Amnesia' or 'FotPB'—you'd like to see updated first. It was a pretty close tie, but more people suggested FotPB, so there you go. I'm also very grateful to everyone who reviewed my fics in general; so, thank you again!

(By the way, I know it's been a while since this fic was updated, so if you don't remember what Saena's intended message to Kyoko actually is, go ahead and check chapter fourteen!)

This is a little random, but I must admit that I have not kept myself constantly up to date with the new Skip Beat! manga chapters, especially since (**spoiler alert!**) Kyoko did not receive a White Day's gift from Ren, and I ended up feeling very disappointed in him. It makes me feel a little sour towards the manga in general. A lot of fans are saying that Ren is planning something, but I can't imagine what. I should hope it is not wishful thinking on our parts, and that Ren really is planning a surprise for Kyoko. Oh, speaking of which, Kyoko did have a mini-breakdown in the manga after she heard what her mother said on television, so this scenario in 'FotPB' is a little similar.

Thanks for reading, and please drop a review if you liked/disliked this chapter!


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